Reality Bites
by Justsomeone1
Summary: Chameleon and his new friend have a little fun with the Mighty Ducks. So much for the perfect world of Disney. 8/21- Chapter 10; FINISHED AT LAST!
1. This is Your Brain on Drugs (if you had ...

(EDITOR: Welcome to my first multi-chapter story! I wanted to make something a bit less serious, more spontaneous, and hopefully funny. Thanks to everyone who enjoyed my trilogy, "The Troubled Times" and its follow-up epilogue. I really appreciate knowing that people read and liked my story. This actually takes place after that trilogy (and epilogue), so I'm staying on the same time line. I'll do my best not to keep people waiting for the subsequent chapters and since at the time of this writing, I'm almost done with Chapter 5, hopefully there won't be too much of a wait. Sit back and relax and I hope you enjoy the story!)  
  
Reality Bites  
  
Chapter 1: This is Your Brain on Drugs (if you had one)  
  
"Being a villain is boring…" Chameleon grumbled to himself, bouncing a rubber ball off the adjacent wall as he laid back in his bed. It was a boring day in the Raptor and the saurians were all stuck inside because of the severe thunderstorms moving through the area. Not to mention that Draguanus was still brooding over his recent defeat at the hands of the Mighty Ducks, heroes of Anaheim. As a result, the saurian lackeys were thrown in the throngs of boredom, forced to sulk around helplessly day after day, struggling to keep their sanity as their master was busy trying to piece together a new idea, another lifeline for the dragon to develop in order to defeat his long time enemies. Yet, Chameleon couldn't care less at this point. He started to think about what it would be like to be back in limbo, among his saurian friends. It would still surprise his fellow employees Wraith and Siege to know that he was a popular guy among the lower-ranking soldiers in Draguanus' army. His impressions always resulted in applause and laughter from the others, but now, the young shape-shifter was forced to sit out his days among brainless droids and his master, who didn't know the first thing about humor. Chameleon decided to get up and take a walk; anything was better than sitting in his room and succumbing to the same brooding that his allies were caught in.  
  
Slowly stumbling down the hall, Chameleon watched the tubes lining the ceilings, their reddish forms bubbling with lava and steam, as they shot off into the distance, fading into an eventual darkness that would eventually find its way to the core. The saurian passed through a string of light and stopped, now standing at the door to the prison ward. He saw the damaged grate, kicked out during Duke and Nosedive's infiltration. Chameleon also caught a glimpse of the cell, where Bladebeak had been detained for a short time. Technically, they didn't keep him in there long because the bird had successfully conned a second chance out of Draguanus, but nevertheless, having somebody living in the room was always comforting to the saurian. He secretly enjoyed company, even with his allies, though they took the green creature for granted.  
  
"Everything's so empty…" Chameleon grunted, kicking a stray bolt into the corner before heading back out, walking along a few corridors at random and soon following a noise that perked up his ears. Apparently, there was some work going on in the throne room, but Draguanus had not stepped in there for many days. Led by curiously, the elastic saurian opened the door and peeked in. He could see the familiar orange behemoth that was Siege, working on a wall while a small contingency of robots were doing repair work in scattered locations throughout the room. With a chance for one of his infamous impressions, Chameleon morphed into a police officer, waving his stick behind his back as he casually strolled up to Siege.  
  
"So, what seems to be the problem?" he tried to sound like an authority figure, but Siege didn't even flinch at the wimpy voice interrupting his work.  
  
"What does it look like?"  
  
"Just wondering…after all, it least something is happening in this boring ship…" Chameleon morphed back, leaning against the wall.  
  
"Why don't you stop complaining and help me then?!" Siege grew a little impatient, nodding his head over to a toolbox.  
  
"Oooh, so what are we playing Uncle Siege, huh huh huh!" Chameleon leaped around in circles, taking the appearance of an overactive kindergartner.  
  
"It's called take the dents out of the walls…now get to work…idiot…" Siege growled as he faced the wall, ignoring Chameleon, who was unimpressed by the other's lack of humor.  
  
"Sorry, I think I hear Lord Draguanus calling…bye!" Chameleon shot off an excuse, disappearing back into the hallways before Siege's protests could be heard. He wasn't in the mood to do any work; he just wanted to enjoy himself a bit.  
  
Strolling down the halls, awakened a little bit by the flurry of action, Chameleon found himself at the doors to one of Draguanus' chemical labs. Deciding to feed his curiosity, Chameleon headed inside and turned on the lights, illuminating a large variety of different vials and potions. Every color could be found among the hundreds of mysterious drinks, some sparkling in the fiery, artificial light. Chameleon saw a light blue potion with an airy appearance, and he began to examine it. It had no label, but looked incredibly stimulating to the saurian's mind…in the thin liquid, there were whitish swirls of white that resembled clouds. They floated along, slowly changing their twisting shapes in the vial, captivating the saurian.  
  
"What is this stuff?" he said out loud, grabbing it in his scaly hands and fingering it, tapping on the glass as the white clouds bent and swirled in the bluish liquid. "Geez, this is just so neat…maybe if I…" Chameleon looked around carefully, hoping that nobody would spot him. Of course, the saurian rarely attracted the attention of the others, but they always seem to bother him exactly when he actually desired privacy.  
  
Slowly pulling off the cork and bringing it close to his nose, Chameleon took a small whiff of the potion. The smell was tantalizing, soft and pleasant, indescribable, but pleasing. Chameleon watched it a little longer, taking in the smell and watching the drifting white swirls peacefully floating among the liquid, forming a variety of shapes that caught Chameleon in a daze, memorizing him into a drowsy stupor. All of a sudden, caution was thrown out the window as the saurian downed the contents of the vial, feeling its refreshing taste cooling his senses and dancing along his long, forked tongue. Chameleon could feel instant comfort from the potion, its nourishment making his nerves slow as he sat on the floor. Taking in the whole experience, Chameleon hadn't even wondered what he had drunk when he caught in pleasant dreams, peacefully snuggled against the dusty leg of a table, his smile alluring and intoxicated.  
  
All of a sudden, Chameleon awoke when a vial above him, flew off the edge of a table and clocked him in the head. Jumping up, startled, Chameleon saw a small rat scurrying across the table. Annoyed, the saurian grabbed it and opened a waste chute, chucking it down the dark portal without any sympathy, despite its desperate cries. The green figure rubbed his head, trying to clear the cobwebs out of his head and focus on the room around him. Chameleon didn't remember falling asleep, but he did recall drinking that enchanting potion, now mere droplets remaining among the empty vial, laying next to the spot where he had dozed off.  
  
"What happened?" Chameleon stuttered, still rubbing his disorientated head as he returned to the vial. "Uh oh…I drank it." The saurian took the vacant bottle and stuffed it out of sight, hidden in back of a particularly colorful array of potions, none nearly as interesting as the one he had consumed. Chameleon peaked down the corridor as he made a sly escape, quietly sneaking down to his room, his head swimming with dazzling colors. After bumping into several walls, Chameleon found his room and leaped inside, falling back on his bed, watching the ceiling flash with a beautiful swirl of light, various colors illuminating the stretch of typically cold metal and making it seem alive. Somehow, the saurian didn't feel like sleeping anymore, his only interest was watching the kaleidoscope unfolding on his ceiling, his eyes glowing with awe. Although, the serene moment was suddenly shattered by a head, developing from the oozing colors, flashing a smile at Chameleon, who with a scream, jumped off the bed, and slid underneath it, shaking in freight.  
  
"I'm going crazy!" he mumbled, closing his eyes and mentally picturing the face. It looked like Draguanus, if his master was actually a clown. The monstrosity had rainbow-like teeth and wore large, triangular sunglasses. His afro was colorful, streaked in brilliant hues of blue, yellow, and red. It was unlike anything the saurian ever saw before.  
  
"Heyyyy, dude, come on out. I haven't got all day!" Chameleon's eyes snapped open, sweat developing at his pores when he heard the cool, leathery voice booming over his room. Hesitantly sliding his head out, a wacky scream quickly made him dash into the far corner under his bed, the dust balls flying around him, causing a fit of sneezing.  
  
"Don't be afraid, little green dude. I'm here to make your dreams come true!"  
  
"Huh?" Chameleon gave a look of confusion, staring out from under the bed as the blaze of color slid off the ceiling, down to the wall, the face rematerializing and looking at him amusedly.  
  
"Come on out…you have awakened me…"  
  
"What do you mean by that?" Chameleon's voice shook a little, still imprinted with fear as the shining face chuckled.  
  
"You drank the potion right?"  
  
"No and you can't prove it!."  
  
"Well, we both know you did… no bother lying to me."  
  
"So…what if I did?! What are you going to do about it."  
  
"Nothing. I'm happy you drank it."  
  
"Huh? Why?"  
  
"You have awakened me!"  
  
"So…I drank you?"  
  
"Yeah…don't you see?"  
  
"No…" Chameleon pushed himself out from under the bed, grabbing a blaster on a nearby dresser before defensively seating himself on the bed, aiming the weapon at the face.  
  
"Oh, come on, dude! That won't be necessary. You can't hurt me!" the head spun in circles, Chameleon firing out in his freakish state. Of course, the head was proven true. The blasts only dented the wall and the head laughed it off while sliding over to another, undisturbed piece of the surface.  
  
"See, what'd I tell ya, greeny?"  
  
"What the heck are you!"  
  
"Well…I don't have a name."  
  
"You're a gigantic head of light!" Chameleon whimpered, sliding towards the corner, his skin illuminated in wide variety of reflected tones.  
  
"Right you are, but I am something much more important."  
  
"Like…?"  
  
"Have you ever heard of a plot device?"  
  
"Uhhhh…no. What's a plot device?" Chameleon was baffled, as he scratched his head in thought.  
  
"Well, you need a story right?"  
  
"Uhhh, but isn't there already one?"  
  
"Face it, babe. You weren't going anywhere. You were bored, downed a mysterious potion, and suffered from illusions. If that doesn't put the audience to sleep, nothing will."  
  
"Hey, but I can be funny!"  
  
"To yourself. Face it…everyone wants to see the ducks!"  
  
"How about a story for us?"  
  
"Well, to your dismay, that's not possible…"  
  
"Why not?!" Chameleon snapped, finding it insulting how a crazy, sparkling face of light could be telling him he wasn't worth a story.  
  
"Because, you are what is called a supporting character. See, you are here to be dumb, crack jokes and make impressions while your master is beaten over and over again by the Mighty Ducks, which are the main characters."  
  
"Sounds stupid to me."  
  
"It is…but it works."  
  
"Why can't we have a series of our own?"  
  
"Well, that's because it's been proven that people like ducks more than chameleons. It doesn't mean that you don't make a great simple villain to take abuse."  
  
"So, what are you doing here?"  
  
"Well, your master seems to be on a lunch break or something like that and the other bad guys are reeling from defeat, right?"  
  
"Right…"  
  
"So, here I am, a plot device that you just happened to choose. Drank me down and here I am, ready to create a plot."  
  
"Am I in it?"  
  
"Hmmm…possibly, but it will center on the ducks."  
  
"That's no fair, I object!"  
  
"Oh, come on…you get front row seats, and it's gonna be a blast, dude! All you need to do in this story is lay down on your bed and watch."  
  
"Really? No getting fired at or having to obey orders?" Chameleon's interest was now piqued at the thought.  
  
"That's right…well, unless the plot changes all of a sudden. We're going to play by ear actually."  
  
"Do I get snacks?"  
  
"Sure…this is a comedy." The head winked, and a ding noise reached Chameleon's ears. All of a sudden, he saw buckets of popcorn, assorted candy bars, and giant cups of pop scattered around his bed and on the floor. The saurian danced with glee, a storm of kernels bouncing up and down with him as he collapsed again, popcorn and candy flying around his happy form. Grabbing the nearest bucket and a cup of soda off the floor, he sat back against the walls and relaxed, ready to see the action unfold.  
  
"So what's the plot gonna be, huh?"  
  
"Well, since this is a comedy, the rules for the Brotherhood of Delusionatory Heads…"  
  
"What, the brotherhood of dawhosawhatzit heads?!"  
  
"Don't worry about it, greeny. It's merely an imaginary name in order to establish some kind of background behind my character. I don't even get a newsletter."  
  
"Well, I do…" Chameleon said, pulling out a few sheets of stapled paper from the top drawer of his dresser. "It's called the Saurian Times."  
  
"You get a newsletter?!"  
  
"Yeah, but it's just an opportunity for Draguanus to yell at us in writing…see?" he held it out towards the head. Endless strings of curses lined the pages front and back, in crude handwriting. "I wonder how he does it with those fingernails."  
  
"Gee, not exactly grade A bathroom reading material."  
  
"Nah, but it's a nice replacement when we run out of toilet paper. There was the one time Siege…"  
  
"Ummm, don't you want to get this started?"  
  
"What started?"  
  
"The plot!"  
  
"Isn't this a plot?" the face smiled to itself at that one. Chameleon did have a point.  
  
"Yes…but not a good one."  
  
"What would a good one be?"  
  
"The ducks?"  
  
"Oh yeah!" Chameleon leaped back onto his bed, dropping the papers and snuggling in between a couple large buckets of popcorn. "Go ahead…I'll be watching with interest."  
  
"Sit back and relax, because the ducks are going to get a taste of reality, super sized!" the face whooped a couple times, laughing along with Chameleon in a screeching chorus before the wall began to turn into a screen, its first image on the living room of the Mighty Ducks headquarters…  
  
(Next time: The ducks see a news report…but something about it disturbs their inner tranquility…if that's a hint. Next is Chapter 2, "A Big Mac for a Big Duck"!) 


	2. Big Mac for a Big Duck

Reality Bites  
  
Chapter 2: Big Mac for a Big Duck  
  
"Another morning…" Wildwing stretched, standing at the back door of the Anaheim Pond with a cup of orange juice, watching the sun slowly rise into the sky, overpowering the artificiality of the city and bathing it in rich morning light. Wildwing was often the first one up; as leader of the Mighty Ducks, it was up to him to set a good example for the others. That includes being up bright and early to take in the sun and pull a few exercises in the gym to maintain his cardiovascular strength. After all, the saurians could attack at any time, and having agility was one of the keys to victory.  
  
"Ok, enough boring stuff about me…I wonder who else is up." Wildwing threw his empty cup in the air, catching it fancifully behind his back as he opened the door and strolled down to the living quarters. When he got into the living room, Duke and Tanya were up, their half-sleeping forms sprawled out on the furniture, awaiting the caffeine rush to take effect from their half devoured cups of coffee.  
  
"Hey, Wildwing."  
  
"Hi Duke…Tanya. What's the news today?"  
  
"You don't got it?" Duke gave a questioning glance to Wildwing, who snapped his fingers in realization.  
  
"Crap, I forgot the paper…"  
  
"Alright, let's watch the news then." Tanya mumbled, her absent- minded fingers carefully pounding all over the remote. After a few moments, the television popped on, at full volume, the booming voice of an early morning MTV music video blasting the ducks fully awake. Tanya quickly turned the volume down, mumbling something about Nosedive, sighing as she turned it to the news station.  
  
"Sorry guys…"  
  
"My…ears…ouch." Duke grunted, rubbing his temples and groaning to himself. Their attention soon turned to the television.  
  
"Hey, it's about us." Wildwing saw their logo on the screen and plopped down on the couch to watch.  
  
"And in recent news, the Mighty Ducks manager, Phil Palmfeather, has just announced that one of the ducks has been traded away to another NHL team in a stunning move. That's right, folks…the hockey player known as Grin, will be traded off to the Detroit Red Wings. Apparently, rumors persist that after a luxury dinner at McDonalds and a personal night with one of the team's secretaries that Palmfeather was quote 'more than happy' to give them one of his players. Unfortunately, Grin couldn't be reached for comment."  
  
In related news, the Detroit Red Wing's secretary, 'Babe' Pillowpounder, has announced she's moving to Anaheim…" Tanya clicked the television off, their dumbfounded glances turned to Wildwing, who was stupefied, his mouth hanging over and his eyes nearly as big as pucks. Suddenly, his expression turned to a vicious snarl.  
  
WHAAAAAAAAT?!" He screamed out, startling Mallory, who soon came out in robes, her slumping form brandishing a puck launcher.  
  
"Alright, show me the saurians!" she demanded, her eyes still coated with sleep and limbs barely hanging off her overdressed body. After a moment of studying Wildwing's expression, she put down the puck launcher and grew confused.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"PHIL'S TRADING GRIN TO ANOTHER TEAM!!!" Wildwing shouted, clenching his fists for a second before dashing to the nearest phone book to look up Phil's number.  
  
"Man, we got to get a new manager…" Tanya muttered.  
  
"Can you believe that? A big mac and ugly girl later and he's giving the big guy away?"  
  
"What the hell is up with that?!" Mallory shouted in outrage.  
  
"Yeah. He can check half a team with one finger. We need him!" Tanya joined in.  
  
"Yeah, and I'm starting to make sense of his mystical zen-like stories…" Duke added with a sip of coffee, drawing stares from the others.  
  
"You…understand him?" Tanya sat up on the couch, staring at Duke. Mallory scratched her head in confusion. To break the awkward silence, Wildwing slammed down the phone and angrily stormed back into the living room.  
  
"HE DOESN'T ANSWER THE PHONE!"  
  
"Of course. He's with Miss Pillpopper…"  
  
"Pillowpounder!"  
  
"Whatever!"  
  
"I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!"  
  
"Wildwing, calm down, we'll get this straightened around."  
  
"Yeah, don't sweat it. They won't take Grin without a fight. Besides, Grin could flick away the entire NHL commission with a thought." Duke gave a chuckle at the mental picture as he took another sip of the coffee.  
  
"We have to tell him, I guess.  
  
"You're right Tanya. But not before I slaughter Phil for doing that…"  
  
"Wildwing, cool it!" Duke replied, drawing nods from his companions. "We'll take care of it."  
  
"How dare he does that, behind our backs! Where does that man get the audacity to sell off our team members?!" Wildwing's anger was still brewing over the words, albeit a more subdued tone.  
  
"Please, Wildwing…this is Phil we're talking about."  
  
"Yeah, I guess it is."  
  
"What do we tell Grin?"  
  
"Tell me what?" Grin's large gray frame was standing in one of the entrances to the room. Decked out in his battle gear, he assembled himself in a corner, crossing his legs together and getting ready to meditate.  
  
"Grin, Phil sold you off to Detroit…but I won't let him get away with it…I promise you…" Wildwing's fists clenched again, his beak seething with anger as the words came out in a hissing noise. The other ducks were a lot taken back by the white mallard's uncharacteristic rage.  
  
"Calm yourself, Wildwing. The path to enlightenment is one of peaceful…"  
  
"Grin, he traded you off for a girl and a big mac!" Duke thrown in mid-sentence.  
  
"…OR forceful negotiation." Grin finished his comment, showing a dissatisfied frown, doused with violent intentions.  
  
"Geez…what else can happen?" Tanya moaned, leaning back and looking out at the rest of the team. They had no idea.  
  
"I might as well go tell Dive the news…" Wildwing mumbled, walking off to Nosedive's door, which wasn't far off the main living room. It was a surprise that with all the commotion that the teen didn't wake up, but this was Nosedive. This was a duck so gifted, that he could sleepwalk to Taco Tower and mumble his order, eating breakfast and returning for practice before waking up when Phil would accidentally drop his clipboard. Wildwing chuckled to himself as he arrived the door and slowly knocked.  
  
"Dive?" All of a sudden, Wildwing heard a tape recorder beginning to play on the other side of the door.  
  
"You have reached the door to Nosedive Flashbeak. Unfortunately, I'm sleeping at the time. If this is Wildwing, come back later dude, yeesh! If this is Mallory, I didn't switch your tooth paste for the expired milk…" Mallory let a ferocious shriek, silenced by Duke who was intently listening with the others to the recording. "If this is Grin, hello zen dude and remember, Bernie the Bear is one with deception, ha! If this is Tanya, please remember Lectic Land opens at 10AM. Oh, and if this Duke, I told you yesterday, Folgers is better, Maxwell Man! If you are an evil saurian overlord or one of his scaly creepzillas, please leave a message and I'll puck you back to last Tuesday when I happen to wake up." A beep followed, Wildwing staring back at the team, who all returned amused grins, except Mallory, which had firmly gripped her puck launcher, ready for combat. The ducks quickly tried to talk her out of walking in and destroying the teen in his sleep, while Wildwing kept knocking at the door, trying to wake Nosedive up.  
  
The teen was nuzzled under a pile of comics from last night, using an unopened bag of chips as his pillow and curled in a fetal position. He smiled keenly when the recording played but started to groan when he heard the familiar knocks of Wildwing continuing to rhythmically tap on his door.  
  
"Dive, wake up!" he heard Wildwing's voice, behind him the sounds of struggle as the screams of an enraged Mallory overpowered their protests, reaching the teen's ears.  
  
"Oops…guess I shouldn't…have…(yawn)…mentioned the rotten milk." He grinned pleasantly, nestling into his comics as Wildwing continued to knock, growing slightly more forceful.  
  
"Come on Nosedive, get up!"  
  
"Go away!" Nosedive's ears rang at the sound of his own voice as he buried his head under the bag of chips.  
  
"Nosedive, we need to talk."  
  
"Not with the amazon…" Nosedive yelled back, stopping mid-sentence to feebly try sleeping again.  
  
"What did he call me?!" Mallory barked in reply, her swift banging momentarily racking the door.  
  
"Get out here, you little twerp!" She screamed through the door, Nosedive cringing at the sound of her early-morning, banshee voice. Mumbling incoherently, he shifted and gave a yelp as he plummeted out of the bed to the cold floor.  
  
"Yikes, that's cold!" the words echoing out the door, some of the ducks chuckling to themselves. Wildwing turned to Mallory, who now had her puck launcher ready to shoot at the door, amid defiance from the others.  
  
"Mallory, stop that!"  
  
"Forget it, Wildwing. I'm giving your brother a one way trip to the emergency ward!"  
  
"Mal Mal, didn't you hear him? He didn't do it…I did!" Duke caught his mouth…he accidentally thought out loud and now faced the surprised stares of the other ducks.  
  
"Nosedive…didn't…do it?" Mallory dropped the puck launcher, her beak drooping open in disbelief.  
  
"Uhhh…" Duke struggled to think up an excuse to get himself out of the fryer, but instead, took a step back and nodding his head mischievously.  
  
"I'm…" Mallory started up loud, but suddenly, the fatigued look dominated her complexion again and her shoulders sunk. "…going back to sleep." She stumbled off, dragging the puck launcher behind her. However, next to Duke, she tensed up and extended a condemning finger to his beak. "I'll take care of you later…" she growled primitively before disappearing in her room down the corridor. Duke gulped.  
  
"You…pulled a prank on Mallory?" Wildwing was still focused on Duke, ignoring his brother in the next room. Nosedive's head suddenly appeared out of the door, startling Wildwing as it bumped into his side.  
  
"Ouch…klutz…Duke, my man!" Nosedive came out in an old T-shirt and shorts. "Way to go!" he held up a high five, which Duke returned happily, his dashing smile back in place.  
  
"Wait, I'm still uh, umm, you know, confused here." Tanya stuttered, leaning on the arm of the couch as if it was her only support. "You…didn't do it?"  
  
"My idea, but only our masterful former thief could handle such an important task!" Nosedive gave a big smile, smoothly rolling the words as he shifted an arm around Duke's shoulder. The gray mallard folded his arms and gave another dashing smile, now proud of his accomplishment.  
  
"Yup, yup, yup. The look on her eyes was priceless, Kid…she was ready to kill."  
  
"That's our girly girl!" the two of them beamed together, until Wildwing suddenly stepped in front of them.  
  
"If you two are done."  
  
"No big bro, not yet…"  
  
"Dive." Wildwing's warning tone was in play, terminating the playful moment.  
  
"What? Oh yeah, you woke me up baldy!" Nosedive's finger bluntly poked Wildwing's chest challengingly. The while mallard decided to overlook the opportunity to attack his sibling and delivered the news.  
  
"Forget about that. Phil traded Grin off!"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Phil gave away Grin to Detroit!" Nosedive's face slowly loosened up on its mock-annoyance and adopted a shocked appearance.  
  
"No! Zen-meister!" he ran up to Grin, causing the large bird to raise an eyebrow in response. "You can't go! You're the Grinster, Zen-man, vile betrayer to my case against Bernie the Bear!" Nosedive dramatically wailed, his bony arms desperately trying to shake Grin's massive form in protest, but to no avail. "Bro, give me a puck launcher…I'll give Phil a little counter-proposal!" a sly grin invaded his beak, but as much as Wildwing would have wanted to see it, he had to shake his head no.  
  
"Believe me, little bro, I wanted to nail him too. I can't reach him, but we'll get to the bottom of this."  
  
"Hey, we don't we use the Drake and track him down?!" Nosedive piped up. Tanya actually raised her eyebrows at the suggestion; the teen actually came up with a point the others didn't take into account.  
  
"We did install that tracking device in his beeper…" Tanya rubbed the bottom of her beak in thought and she got up, towards the ready room, the brothers and Duke in close pursuit. Grin eventually came in a few seconds after Tanya began hastily typing in commands for the computer. A large- scale map of Anaheim popped up, with the tracking device activated. It glowed at a street corner on the east side of the city.  
  
"Lincoln and Rio Vista." Tanya read the screen, looking to the others.  
  
"Hey, isn't there a Motel Six there?" Duke brought up inquisitively.  
  
"Yeah, that's where all the sleazy managers go to…hey!" Nosedive made the connection and waved his gun-toting hand to get everyone's attention. "To the migrator!"  
  
"That's my line." Wildwing crossed his arms, refusing to move. He pushed his belt buckle, changing into battle mode, the other ducks following suite. Tanya managed to go and retrieve Mallory, who groggily changed into battle gear and soon reappeared, still sporting her puck blaster. Wildwing, seeing the team was assembled and with mask in place, valiantly extended his hand out, dramatically pointing to the vehicle.  
  
'To the migrator!"  
  
"Oy…" Nosedive slapped his forehead, as he and Duke joined the others on board.  
  
Phil laid back in bed and enjoyed a couple of left over chocolates from last night. The sight of peeling wallpaper and cracked windows didn't deter him from the extraordinary sight in the bed, next to him. Sure enough, Suzy "Babe" Pillowpounder was smoking a cigar, giving a satisfactory smile as she drowsily traced the yellowed patterns in the wallpaper, over to Phil, who returned a peaceful glance.  
  
"Babe…you…are so good."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I never knew that you gave such good foot massages…" Phil jumped out of bed, fully dressed in his business suit, except for his socks and shoes, his bare feet lightly touching the stained carpet.  
  
"Yeah, that was my all-nighter foot massage special. Really, I should have worked as a foot therapist."  
  
"Oh, my feet never felt so good!" Phil pranced around the room for a minute, letting himself fall back onto a grungy chair in the far corner, sighing as his wiggling toes danced upon his tensionless feet.  
  
"Let's call room service!" the woman threw the covers off her body. She was fully dressed as well, the wrinkles in her pressed business suit shining with the sunlight, blazing through the old blinds dangling limply off the rotted window frames.  
  
"Is there room service, babe?"  
  
"Oh…guess not, but there's an IHOP down the street."  
  
"Great, babe! Oh, what could be better?" A knock at the door interrupted his joyful mood. He cautiously listened to the door and opened it a crack, a well placed kick broke the chain lock and the door flew open, Phil stumbling back onto the bed as his female accomplice screamed.  
  
"So, Phil…" Wildwing gave a dark smirk under the illuminating mask. "Tell us more about this tradeoff with Detroit." A chorus of cocked puck blasters accompanied his words.  
  
"Uh…boobies, please. Can't we talk about this?"  
  
"We are, and here's the thing, Phil. Grin goes…you go."  
  
"And not so complete." Nosedive shot an evil grin, sliding a finger across his neck, giving the sign of decapitation.  
  
"What do you mean?" Phil leaned back to the opposite side of the bed, his nervous glance and beads of sweat apparent to all the ducks.  
  
"Say goodbye to your…"  
  
"Not my little piggies!" his toes quickly dove for cover under a fold of a bedsheet.  
  
"Yeah, Phil. A little meatball surgery for our manager!" Duke took out his duck blade, pointing it towards the large man's feet threateningly.  
  
"Boobulas…let's make a deal…anything but the piggies!"  
  
"Ah, so you've come to your senses…" Wildwing grinned, glancing to the others, copying the expression amongst themselves.  
  
An hour later, a deal was worked out at the IHOP. Detroit wasn't so happy to get the short end of the stick, so Phil had to whine and moan his way into a cooperative move. He only had to pay a million dollars in reparations and Ms. Pillowpounder had to return to Detroit to continue to work as secretary. Soon after, the woman left alone, her voluptuous curves teasing the guys as she casually strolled out, calling for a taxi before disappearing from the manager's life forever.  
  
"Boobies…now that was an awesome woman…" Phil shot an empty gaze out the window, swinging his half empty coffee cup back and forth to mimic her hips. "My feet were never so happy."  
  
"Phil…" Wildwing said forcefully, the moment slightly trivialized by the noisy chomping on pancakes by the neighboring Nosedive. "Don't you ever do that again!"  
  
"Hey, it's business."  
  
"Would you like us to claim it was business when he happen to find a new manager?" Grin surprisingly added to the conversation. Phil's eyes opened wide, knowing that if the titan had actually spoke then they meant business.  
  
"Won't happen again boobies! In fact, to make it up to you, I won't have any photo shoots for a whole day!" Phil gasped at the thought of lost revenue, but the ducks seemed unimpressed by the tiny sacrifice.  
  
"A week Phil!" Nosedive shot out a couple spots of pancake as his stuffed mouth worked tirelessly to mow down the food. Wildwing gave him a disgusted look along with Mallory and Tanya, but they soon looked back to Phil, seeing if he would surrender to their stares. A couple gulps and a quick look at his checkbook later, Phil sunk his head in approval.  
  
"Ah, finally some peaceful time to contemplate to myself." Grin commented, quickly finishing off his last pancake and sipping his ice water.  
  
"Mall crawling time!" Mallory exclaimed, nudging Tanya, the other female agreeing when the words 'Lectic Land' came into in Mallory's plans.  
  
"Captain Comics, here I come!" Nosedive tried to jump up, but Wildwing held him by the arm and using the other arm to hold back the rest.  
  
"We got practice, remember?"  
  
"Oh, Wildwing. Don't be so stingy. We just saved our teammate from a fate worse then death and you want to hold practice?" Duke slid back in his seat, trying to send him a mental signal to reconsider. The white mallard didn't seem to get it.  
  
"We may have saved Grin, but we still have to practice. Back to the Pond!"  
  
"Coming Phil?" Mallory turned around to see the manager busily dialing his cell phone.  
  
"No, booby. I got calls to make…" Phil glanced down at his phone despairingly, thinking about the woman that changed his life…already gone on a plane back to Detroit. "I wonder if the Red Wings need a new manager?" but, Phil's thoughts were interrupted when the bill appeared on the table. Grumbling, he flipped through his wallet and said a sad goodbye to a small wad of bills.  
  
"Brilliant! I love it!" Chameleon laughed, spilling some popcorn and absent-mindedly grabbing another, his greasy hand filled with more buttery kernels.  
  
"Hold on, Greeny! It's only going to get better! Wanna make the calls?" The face grinned slyly, leaning towards the cell phone next to Chameleon's body. The small saurian picked it up and joyfully dialing the first number, ready to cause a little more trouble for the ducks.  
  
"Isn't this better than some stupid plan to steal beryllium crystals?" The face saw the approval on Chameleon's sniveling mouth.  
  
"This is too good…and the best thing is the ducks can't even track us down for it!"  
  
"That's right!" the two mismatched beings laughed as the screen on the wall started to fade out and develop an image of the Anaheim Pond, the ducks heading inside the rink, unsuspecting of what was going to happen next…  
  
(Next time: Chameleon and his drug-induced friend are done making the calls, so double trouble comes the ducks' way. Coming up next is "Practice, Pizza, and Public Servants, Oh My!") 


	3. Practice, Pizza, and Public Servants, Oh...

(EDITOR: For some reason, I submitted this chapter, and it wasn't double spaced like it normally should have. Weird.)  
  
Reality Bites  
  
Chapter 3: Practice, Pizza, and Public Servants, Oh My!  
  
The Mighty Ducks were back, already decked out in their hockey gear, playing a mock game for practice. Nosedive, Wildwing, and Tanya were teamed up against the other three. Duke and Nosedive were not too happy having to play on opposite teams, so they playfully became competitive with each other, often fiercely battling over the puck as the others just watched. However, the two were also double-teaming the rest of the team at the same time. Nosedive pretended to miss a swat of his stick, turning his back to Wildwing to impair the mallard's vision, allowing Duke to score a swift goal on the leader. Wildwing put down his stick and folded his arms, getting the hint in the behavior of his teammates.  
  
"You know, I can tell you two are playing us for saps."  
  
"Yeah, knock it off!" Mallory's unnerving voice backed up the white mallard.  
  
"Seriously Wing, you put us apart on purpose."  
  
"Yeah. I thought we were supposed to practice our double-teaming strategies."  
  
"But, you two shouldn't forget how to play solo either."  
  
"Ha, that's too easy!" Nosedive gave a snort, drawing another evil eye from Mallory. He put on his helmet and gave Duke a pat on the shoulder, the two skating to their respective sides.  
  
"Let's do it!"  
  
"I'm not going easy on you now, Kid."  
  
"Don't forget what numero uno ducko has the puck!"  
  
Suddenly, Wildwing's com activated. Jumping up, thinking it was Draguanus, the avian was already in battle gear when he realized that it was just someone at the Pond's front door.  
  
"Draguanus?" the others came running up.  
  
"No, just some kid...with pizza?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm hungry!" Nosedive took off his mask, licking his lips (or the equivalent of them).  
  
"You just ate!" Tanya exclaimed.  
  
"He's growing!" Duke chuckled, getting a wink of approval from Nosedive. The two Flashbeaks started walking towards the door, Nosedive poking his brother in the side.  
  
"Seriously, big bro. You can't walk up to the pizza delivery guy decked out in battle gear."  
  
"It could be a trap." They both caught the sight of the small pizza delivery boy, a young teenager in ripped jeans and a Radiohead T-shirt, struggling to see any sign of life as he pinned his head to the glass doors. Spotting the ducks, he waved, and grew a little startled to see one duck, eyeing him under a mask while the younger one, in causal wear, was rolling his eyes.  
  
"Wing, you're pi-ti-ful! Nosedive saw his brother shrug his shoulders as the mallard answered the door. "Pizza? For me...you shouldn't have!"  
  
"Uhhh, are you a Mr. Duck?"  
  
"No, I'm a Mr. Flashblade, but since I'm a duck, I'll take it anyway!"   
  
"Ok..." the timid boy handed him the pizzas, Nosedive dishing out a twenty-dollar bill and handing it over.  
  
"Could I ask one more thing, Mr. Flashblade."  
"Nosedive."  
  
"Nosedive, got it. Is there any way you could autograph my cap?"  
  
"After you tell me who's your favorite." Wildwing moaned as he switched into casual wear, snatching the pizzas from Nosedive, scanning them with the mask suspiciously while waiting for his brother.  
  
"You are!"  
  
"In that case, of course I'll sign it!" Nosedive beamed as the boy handed him a marker. Happily signing his name on the hat, the boy began to twitch from excitement before slipping away, heading back to his car and continuously looking back, enthralled by the experience he just had. Nosedive turned around, snatching the pizzas back and sticking his tongue out playfully.  
  
"The pizzas aren't tainted." Wildwing dryly commented.  
  
"Man, you are such a bummer! Using a legendary mask to scan for the possibility of stale sausage! You got no humor! I think that runs with baldness."  
  
"I'm not bald!"  
  
"Look, just because you got in a fight with a hairdryer and poofed those feathers..."  
  
"It's hair!"  
  
"Ha...feathers."  
  
"Hair!"  
  
"Feathers!"  
  
"Wait..."  
  
"Feathers!"  
  
"Stop, Dive. I gotta go check on the mail. I'll be right back." Wildwing walked over to the deposit box near the glass doors and grabbed a handful of envelopes, returning to his brother's side as they continued back towards the rink.  
  
"Hair."  
  
"Feathers!"  
  
"That's it!" Wildwing started to make as if he was going to sprint after Nosedive, and the duck took off running, slipping out onto the ice, almost flipping head over heels as he made an embarrassingly ungraceful fall to the ground. Miraculously, the pizzas were fine, landing next to him, still stacked on top of each other. Laughter followed through, Nosedive getting up and striking a karate pose as Wildwing came in, ignoring him and casually flipping through the mail.  
  
"Hey, Mallory, you got something here." He waved a white letter, reeking of formality. The female duck grabbed it, studying the envelope for a minute.  
  
"What's the IRS?"  
  
"Oh man!" Nosedive clamored up, leaning over Mallory's shoulders to look, which earned him a brunt elbow in the gut. The teenager, however, didn't cease his attempts to see the letter. "I heard real bad things about them. Phil says they are worse than Draguanus."  
  
"What's it stand for?" Duke asked, unfamiliar with the name.  
  
"Intergalatic Robbing System or something like that." Tanya scoffed at Nosedive's reply, skating next to Mallory.  
  
"It's the Internal Revenue Service." She gave a look towards the teen before returning her eyes to Mallory's curious gaze. "It's co-extensive with the government."  
"What do they want with me?"  
  
"We better see." Mallory complied with Tanya and opened the letter. Reading the letter for a moment, her mouth dropped open as she seemed to rescan a single spot in the paper repeatedly.  
  
"TAX EVASION!" she roared, shaking the paper in disbelief. "I swear, if this is any of your work..." she shook her fist at Nosedive and Duke, which both backed up an inch, holding their hands up defensively, their startled faces shaking in denial. She frantically waved the paper, handing it over to Tanya, who skimmed over the sheet quickly.  
  
"This says that there was a report that you are evading paying taxes so now you are going to be audited. That's...well, uh...serious."  
  
"And who said I was evading taxes?!" her infamous growl and evil glare once again stabbing at the two mallards, which were still denying the charges.  
  
"Mal Mal, I swear, I had nothing to do with this one, girly girl!"  
  
"Me neither!"  
  
"I don't believe you..."  
  
Who would have made the report then?" Wildwing pondered, fingering the remaining letters in his restless hands.  
  
"Maybe Draggy is trying a less direct method of attack?" Nosedive's small crack was met with clenched teeth and a deathly look from Mallory. He gave a timid chuckle as he backed up, moving towards Wildwing for protection.  
  
"Well, we do have the records, so we can prove to the auditor that you haven't evaded on taxes." Tanya reassured Mallory, whose tense shoulders sunk a little bit at the comment.  
  
"I can't believe this is happening..." Mallory groaned as she skated away, into the locker room.  
  
"You didn't do this, right bro?" Wildwing's mask-covered gaze was trying to grill the answer out of Nosedive, but the teen only returned a confused look, shrugging his shoulders. None of the team could admit to pulling the stunt.  
  
"Well, I guess practice is over..." Wildwing muttered, as he switched back into hockey gear, he and the team heading to the lockers to switch out of their gear. As Wildwing plopped down the letters on a bench, Grin passed by, casting a quick glance on the letters. His eyes happened to catch that the next letter was specifically for Wildwing and Phil, the subject listed as Nosedive.   
  
"Wildwing, it appears that the next letter is yours."  
  
"Huh?" Wildwing's head popped up from removing his skates, and walked over to the letter, picking it up and surprised to see both his and his manager names listed on it. "What's this? The SS?". Tearing the envelope, he found several papers inside, accompanied by a formal letter, addressing him. Eyeing it suspiciously, the team could see his gaze turn from hesitant curiosity to shock and anger.  
  
"They're...they're..." he stuttered, his beak hanging open as he stared at the letter. Nosedive strolled over, trying to gain a look at what was disturbing his brother so much.  
  
"What is it, Wing? What's it say?"  
  
"They can't do this!"  
  
"Can't do what?!"  
  
"Social Services wants to take you away! To them, you're a minor!"  
  
"He is a minor..." Tanya pointed out, earning stares from the Flashbeaks and Duke.  
  
"That's besides the point. None of us qualify as legal guardians so they are coming to take Nosedive away! They can't do that!"  
  
"Oh man, this bites! I can't believe those humans!" Nosedive grew angry, slightly nervous at the thought of being separated from the team. He had been on Earth for nearly a whole season and only a few months away from his 18th birthday did the government decide to tear him away?  
  
"Don't worry, Kid. We'll settle it." Duke came up with a hand on the teen's shoulder. Wildwing returned a worried, sympathetic glance. "Yeah, Dive. I won't let them take my little brother from me."  
  
"Weren't you his guardian, Wildwing?"  
  
"We were in the camps prior to the invasion. There was no legal guardian for Nosedive after our parents died."  
  
"Why do they do this right now?"  
  
"That's not all..."  
  
"What?!" Wildwing was a little jumpy as Duke was peering through the papers.  
"They want to charge you..."  
  
"Charge me?!"  
  
"Yeah, with reckless endangerment involving Nosedive! About 30 counts of it too!" Wildwing's face was still painted with stun as his enraged hands tore through the sheets, looking at them and shaking his head as if by doing so, the situation would be averted. Nosedive leaned back against the lockers, a little light-headed at the thought of his brother being locked in jail and himself being forced into a foster home.  
  
"He fights Draguanus with us, and that's reckless endangerment?"  
  
"Apparently so."  
  
"Something's going on. Tanya, any ideas?"  
  
"Well, now that I think about it, there should be hope. Phil did originally address Nosedive's underage status in our signed contracts. I have a copy on the Drake One, so we should review that. I don't think Social Services has the right to take Nosedive away or charge you for reckless endangerment.  
  
"After all, the law shouldn't be the same for hockey-playing ducks from another universe." Duke added, trying to comfort Wildwing.  
  
"They can't split the team..." Wildwing groaned, his sad eyes glancing to Nosedive, the two sharing a brief sympathetic glance before following Tanya and the others down to the living quarters. Within a couple minutes, they were all lines up at the super computer, except for Mallory, who was busy overlooking her records in her room. Tanya began to type feverishly, pulling up a database of stored documents. On the screen, the contract for Nosedive came up on the screen, and Tanya looked through the table of contents, a relieved smile crossing her beak when she saw the listing for Nosedive's status as a minor. Skipping to the page, Tanya and the other ducks were taken aback when the entire page turned up blank.  
  
"It's not there! Tanya?" Wildwing looked over to her, leaving the female duck to readjust her glasses and check the diagnosis for the Drake One to look for errors.  
  
"I don't get it. The Drake One is performing fine...it seems as if the clause was completely erased."  
  
"Who would do that...man, somebody's setting me up!" Nosedive bellowed, crossing his arms and making a pouting frown at the screen.   
  
"Who could have accessed that data?" Duke asked Tanya, noticing the small hints of worry in the eyes of the brothers as they exchanged glances.  
  
"Only us. Not even Draguanus should have been able to access this. It's triple-encrypted."  
  
"Then it's either one of us or an error."  
  
"Well, like I said, the Drake One hasn't reported any errors that could possibly affect this information."  
  
"Doesn't Phil have a printed copy?"  
  
"Yeah! Phil-meister's got to have one!" Nosedive seemed to lighten his mood again, his bright smile crossing his beak.  
  
"Well, we'll have to find him again..."  
  
(Next time: Chameleon decides to jump in the action and Phil gets attacked by Fruit of the Loom?! Things get a little exciting and a little crazy next time in Chapter 4, Phil's Underpants Dance!) 


	4. Phil's Underpants Dance

(EDITOR: Haven't seen much in the way of reviews, but that could be since fanfiction.net has been down a lot as of late. I've finally finished Chapter 7, so I'm drawing near the end of the story. I'll keep releasing these on a regular basis, every few days. I hope that you are enjoying the ride. It's not hilarious or anything, but hey, maybe you'll chuckle once or twice, especially since Phil owes you a dance...well, technically not, but just see what happens.)  
  
Reality Bites  
  
Chapter 4: Phil's Underpants Dance  
  
"Boobies, I'm back!" Just then, to the ducks' surprise, Phil came in, sporting his cell phone and newly pressed business suit.  
  
"Phil...perfect timing! We need you to get Nosedive's contract."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Phil, man, don't ask questions! They're going to take me away and put the stripes on Wing!"  
  
"But, it's on the contract. They can't do that."  
  
"Our copy seems to have been tampered with." Tanya frowned, readjusting her glasses in awkward embarrassment. The Drake One was her computer; it had always solved problems in the past without incident. Nosedive seemed to have picked up on Tanya's shamefulness.  
  
"Don't worry Tauny! We'll get this settled and by lunchtime!" Nosedive walked towards Phil, who now started out the door. Wildwing turned around to Grin, the silent giant who had been following wordlessly throughout the whole ordeal.  
  
"Can you stay here with Mallory?"  
  
"I shall be happy to aid my fellow duck."  
  
"Uh...great. We'll be back soon." Wildwing headed out after the group, Phil marching to his car, a truculent look burning in his pupils. "Nobody messes with my ducks!" he swung his fists in the air as if to challenge the world. If anyone tried to mess with his boobies (beside himself), they'd have another thing coming. The four ducks and Phil were tightly compressed in his compact car. Wildwing's large frame made it especially trialsome to squeeze in back with Nosedive and Duke. Tanya escaped the bodily carnage and sat up in front, trying to slide in the car and make room through all the promotional pamphlets and papers. "I guess he does do some work..." Tanya thought to herself as she eyed a contract for a bird food appearance next month.  
  
"Let's go!" Phil buckled the seat belt and took off towards his home, where the extra contract was kept. Ironically, the elegant apartment building was in plain view of the Pond, translating into a short drive. Passing the front desk and intimidating the guard with the appearance of several large avian bodyguards, Phil took the elevator up to his apartment. Heading inside, the smell of spaghetti TV dinners and crisp, new papers lingered over the interior. Out of the main window was the sight of the Pond, the ducks stopping momentarily to admire the view before following Phil back into his bedroom. Posters of the Mighty Ducks were plastered all around the wall, piles of contracts and papers were littered across a half dozen filing cabinets. Phil advanced right up to a picture of the team, yanking it down to reveal a safe in the wall. Fiddling with the lock for a while under the watchful eyes of the others, a brief pang of relief echoed throughout the room when Phil successfully opened the safe. Six folders were inside, each with their own bundle of papers. He brushed off a nearby table, the ducks gathering around as he plopped down the contracts, finding the folder with Nosedive's name on it and opening it up, staring down the pages until he reached the clause. He began to mumble various words off the page before jumping up with a triumphant smile on his face.  
  
"A-ha! It says right here. Phil Palmfeather, manager of one, Nosedive Flashblade, is therefore appointed guardianship under the laws of the city of Anaheim and the state of California until the minor is of eighteen years of age." The portly man received a look of condemnation from Wildwing and a look of surprise and an amused smile from Nosedive.  
  
"What do I say...Daddy!" Nosedive came up to give Phil a playful hug, the manager backing up, after seeing Wildwing grew more displeased.  
  
"Uhhh...what's wrong? I told you I'd take care of it!" the attention turning to Wildwing, his arms crossed and his glare continuing to crucify Phil.   
  
"Well, for starters, I thought I was supposed to be Nosedive's guardian..."  
  
"Booby, I didn't know at the time...besides, I get tax benefits for it!"  
  
"WHAT!? You're using my brother for your own benefits!?"  
  
"Hey, I spent that money on stuff for you guys."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Well...uh, remember when I ordered pizza a few months ago..."  
  
"Phil!" the manager gave a timorous smile and backed up, Nosedive watching the scene with quiet enjoyment. Soon, he wanted to join in the fun and decided to add to the conversation.  
  
"So, Wing, I guess this means I don't listen to you anymore."  
  
"You wanna bet?"  
  
"Sure...Daddy Phil, so what are you going to do about that big bald eagle over there?" Nosedive acted like a child, hanging his beak over the shoulder of Phil's timid composure and giving a playful grin as he stood behind his human shield.  
  
"I'm not bald!" Wildwing retorted, stepping forward. Phil felt himself sandwiched and tried to barrel out, yet Nosedive held onto him.  
  
"Well, let's ask Daddy here."  
  
"Quit calling me that...I sue you for slander!" Phil quipped, backing up, adjusting his tie, drawing small chuckles from the other ducks. Nosedive pretended to be devastated.  
  
"Oh Wing...my adoptive father, giving up on me..." he fell over, Wildwing catching him and standing the teen back up.  
  
"Geez..." the white mallard muttered, then looking back to Phil. "First thing tomorrow, you get that contract amended."  
  
"Why? I like having Phil as my dad..."  
  
"Dive..." the elder brotherly tone was enough to quell the teen's mock protests. Nosedive folded his arms, turning his attention back to the manager, now continuing to dig through the clauses, his large finger plopping down and sliding through endless lines of small print, and soon paused to read another portion.  
  
"These ducks, noted as legal aliens of another planet, are therefore not guaranteed the same laws and regulations that humans abide by. These beings shall follow the laws to promote safety among their fellow citizens, however..." Phil began to look through the proceeded list, scrolling his finger down to the sixteenth statement.  
  
"Because of dangerous nature of their profession and the charge of defending our world against intergalactic criminals, the city, state, and country doesn't have the authority to declare criminal charges against the ducks that amount to property damage, assault, or reckless endangerment unless specifically performed without merit."  
  
"See, there it is!" Nosedive cheered, jumping up and down while the others watched him merrily. "Phil-meister, you saved Wing too!"  
  
"Yup...I know I'm the best manager ever!" Phil grabbed his coat and flashed his full set of teeth, glistening in the late morning sun.   
  
"Yeah...Dad."  
  
"Stop that!"  
  
"Well, personally, I'd beg to differ..." Wildwing started to beleaguer Phil's celebratory moment with an objection, but he softened up. "...but, I have to hand it to you. You really took care of the contracts...except for the guardianship issue. Good job Phil."   
  
"Yeah, I'm kind of...you know, impressed." Tanya said, now investigating her own contract and studying the fine print.  
  
"Did you write these yourself?" Duke asked, scanned over the clauses in Nosedive's opened contract.  
  
"Well, sort of..." Phil started, but quickly trying to dismiss it so he wouldn't have to admit he had help. "Let's go get this settled! No one tries to incarcerate my boobies...it makes the value of your collectable cards go down!"  
  
"Let that be a lesson to you Dive when I tell you to clean your room." Wildwing smiled, gently tapping the folder on Nosedive's head. The younger mallard was about to protest, but sensing a rebuttal, Wildwing clamped his brother's beak and eyed him contently. "Hey, you should listen to your older brother anyway. And tomorrow, after I'm listed as your legal guardian, I'm going to practice a little discipline for the bald comment..." Nosedive gave a nervous gulp as they left for the Social Services office.   
  
"Wait a sec! That's not fair...they're solving the problem!" Chameleon complained as he threw his candy bar at the screen in protest.  
  
"Well, what do you suppose we should do about it? It is reality based."  
  
"How about they lose it?"  
  
"Hmmm, maybe you got a plan there...but the problem is that the ducks are holding onto the briefcase. There wouldn't be an opportunity to snatch it."  
  
"Hey, why don't I get in on the action? It's about time I have some fun...I'll take the briefcase."  
  
"Ha ha, didn't I tell you that you were a great supporting character?"  
  
"Let's go!" Chameleon snatched his transporter and quickly ran down into the hallway to the robot production line. He knew that with a small contingency of robotic drones that he could keep the ducks distracted long enough to snatch the prize. Activating the half dozen remaining among the dusty conveyor belts, he saw the head on the adjacent wall.  
  
"Hey, Greeny!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Make sure the ducks don't see you or the robots. They will know Draguanus is back and they will definitely come after you."  
  
"Got a plan?"  
  
"Sort of...we need some camouflage..."  
  
Phil's car floundered down the highway, striving towards the Social Services Building in order to clear up their situation. Wildwing held onto the briefcase tightly, refusing to let it go for anything since it meant the team had to give up her brother and he would be facing charges and jail time. It didn't seem possible that the same ducks that had sunk and destroyed Dragunaus' ship was now facing the conflicts of a over-inflated bureaucracy. Nevertheless, he sighed as he patted the briefcase, holding the set of documents that would free them from this nightmare. All of a sudden, Tanya started to stir in her seat, her attention turned out the window.  
  
"Guys, that building is on fire!"  
  
"What?!" Wildwing's face glanced out the window. Sure enough, in the distance, an older brick building was blazing from the center floors, belching heavy smoke that clouded the sight of frantic people, trapped on the roof.  
  
"Let's go!" Duke demanded, prompting Phil to take the next exit and speed down the street, nearly missing a bus and a convertible. Parking a block away along the street, and facing harassment by the convertible driver, the ducks piled out and took off towards the blaze, switching into battle gear on the way down.  
  
"Protect that briefcase with your life, Phil!" Wildwing shouted as he led the charge towards the building. Phil nodded, grabbing it out of the back seat, and setting it next to him.  
  
Wildwing put on the mask and looked to the roof of the building. "There are seven people up there."  
  
"I think I got a plan." Tanya added, activating her Omni-tool and pointing it at the waves of fire. "I got a couple foam bombs that will temporary fight back the fire. Meanwhile, you can get to the roof and rescue the people!"  
  
"Roger! Let's go team!" Wildwing led the way, Duke and Nosedive right behind. Tanya fired the bomb, an explosion of white foam fizzled noisily from a couple of windows, the fire temporarily retreating to the interior of the structure. The three ducks shot pucks up the side of the building, barreling into the wall, blasting down lines for each of them. Quickly scaling up the building, avoiding prolonged foot contact with the burning brick wall, each did a flip up to the top of the building, instantly greeted by the hysterical audience, jumping into their arms.   
  
"Whoa, calm down!" Nosedive exclaimed, almost loosing his balance as two women jumped onto him, screaming in fear and the excitement in recognizing the hockey player.  
  
"Alright, activate the skates! This is gonna be risky!" Wildwing shouted to the others, three of the seven holding on to his neck and shoulders. Looking down the side of the building, the blaze was already protruding from the windows. Duke waved a hand to Tanya, signaling her to shoot the second foam bomb.   
  
Chameleon was overlooking the chaos from a building across the street and saw the female about to use her Omni-tool again. The saurian didn't want to make it that easy for the ducks, especially since the robot drones weren't done snatching the briefcase yet. Taking a careful shot of his laser pistol, he managed to intercept the foam bomb with a blast as it sped to the building, flying off towards the side and exploding in a ball of white foam. Tanya cursed as she spun her head in the direction of the shot, unable to see Chameleon, who had ducked out of view. The other ducks grew concerned and tried to locate the assailant, but instead, found their immediate attention back to the frightened people in their arms.   
  
"Obviously, we need a new plan..." Duke mentioned as he leaped back a bit. The fire was beginning to creep up over the edge.  
  
"It's time for a little pro-fess-iol skating!" Nosedive activated his blades, drawing tighter grips from the women. Skating in a circle to pick up the speed, he headed straight to the edge of the building, leaping over the edge, a pair of terrified screams accompanied the teen as he grabbed a lamppost below, flipping in midair as he made a hard landing. The girls jumped off of him, their ruckus running in harmony with Nosedive's painful groan, his feet throbbing in pain from the landing.  
  
"Dang that kid. Such a risk taker."  
  
"I know, but guess we have to follow his example." Wildwing and Duke both activated their skates, flying off the buildings mere seconds before the flames licked the roof in ravenous delight. Duke and Wildwing managed to catch the lamppost, Duke opting to slide down while Wildwing making a hard landing like his brother. They had managed to save the crowd of people, drawing applause out of the neighboring apartment buildings and the pedestrians. The fire truck approached in a flurry down the street as the four ducks headed back down to the car.  
  
"Who fired that shot Tanya?"  
  
"Well, I...uh...don't know."  
  
"Could have been Draguanus?"  
  
"Draggy, back already?"  
  
"Hmmm...it's not his style." Duke said, his eyes all of a sudden falling on the car, the driver's door ripped asunder and Phil was laying on the ground unconscious. Little attention was given to the man by the bystanders because of the fire in the distance.  
  
"Phil! Phil!" Wildwing rushed up to help him, the others gathering around. Nosedive's let out a stifled gasp as he searched through the car tumultuously ravishing through every square inch, drawing a worried glance from Duke and then Wildwing, after Tanya had taken over supervision of Phil.  
  
"It's gone, Wing, it's gone!" Nosedive jumped out, the beads of sweat on his forehead wiped off viciously as he felt his nerves grow alarmingly jumpy. Duke looked around inside the car while Wildwing circled the perimeter.  
  
"I can't believe this...who could have taken it?!" Duke clamored, leaping out of the car and standing with Nosedive. Wildwing took off the mask, a concerned look dotting his face.   
  
"Help! Underwear monsters!" Phil began to shout, growing delirious as he slowly came back into consciousness. Tanya had to calm him down for a couple minutes before he finally became coherent. Wildwing, somewhat insensitively, tried to grill him for answers as soon as his eyes grew focused on the blonde female.  
  
"What happened?!" Wildwing demanded, moving next to Tanya, his powerful stature asserting its dominance over the obese man at his feet. Phil stuttered for a minute before Nosedive and Duke helped him up, leaning on the side of the car as his heavy breathing lightened up.  
  
"UNDERWEAR MONSTERS ATTACKED ME!!!"   
  
"What the heck?"  
  
"These giant guys covered in underwear came and knocked me out..." Phil slowly began to turn around, to see his car totaled. "My car! Those Fruit of the Loom rejects blew up my car! I still got payments due!!!"  
  
"Relax Phil..."  
  
"Don't you tell me to relax!" the chubby manager took off his tie and tied it around his head like a headband.  
  
"It's ninja Phil..." Nosedive started, remembering the last time he donned the makeshift bandana. Phil was magically impaired and trying to run the ducks to the death thanks to the work of Wraith. It was all fresh in their minds.  
  
"NO ONE, especially monsters dressed in Hanes underwear, is going to get away with pulling one over Phil Palmfeather!"  
  
"Pull one over...like in a wedgie?" Nosedive received a dissatisfied glance from the other ducks. "Sorry."  
  
"Ok, so what do we do?" Duke crossed his arms, eyeing Wildwing for his orders.  
"Well, I took the precaution of putting a homing beacon in the briefcase." Tanya gave the team a small, prideful grin. As expected, the praise from the others succeeded the revelation.  
  
"Tanya, that was great thinking." Wildwing gave her an approving nod.  
"Man, don't you love these successful plot twists in our favor!?" Nosedive beamed, giving a small cheer at the thought of some action and the reclamation of his contract. "What a day!"  
  
"So, sweetheart, where is it?" Duke crossed his arms, optimistic in tone.  
"Well...uh, let me see here..." Tanya pressed a few buttons on her com, resulting in a steady beeping. The other ducks soon activated their coms to see the same visual. "It appears that it is...over there!" Tanya's pointing hand shot out in the direction of the brick building down the street, where the stray shot earlier had originated.  
  
Chameleon was peeking over the frame of a window, seeing Tanya pointing to his position and the other ducks beginning to run for the building. Fumbling with the briefcase, he gave a small sound, something resembling an "eep", when the head suddenly materialized on the wall across the room.  
  
"Did I scare ya?"  
  
"Yeah, a bit." Beads of sweat began to form along the scaly skin on Chameleon's forehead as he looked out the window.  
  
"Great plan. Covering the robots in underwear...brilliant."  
  
"Well, Siege never wears them, but he'll kill me if he found out." Chameleon continued to seem edgy, now giving a small dance with his feet in a nervous twitch.  
  
"Hey, Man, what's wrong?"  
  
"The ducks are coming!"  
  
"Well, don't just sit there, dude! Do something!"  
  
"You do something! This was your idea!" Chameleon pouted, flailing his arms about in a panic as he heard rapid footsteps climbing up the stairs.   
  
"Warp back to the Raptor."  
  
"And bring the ducks to Draguanus?! He'd have my head!"  
  
"Ok...fine, so we got four angry ducks and their bloated manager coming through the door in 12.6 seconds. We can work with that..." Chameleon gasped as he heard the footsteps grow louder and more intense. Shocking the saurian, the door slammed shut on its own, the lock turning. The head flashed a smile, shifting to the floor and illuminating a dark hallway leading to another corner of the building.   
  
"This way...hurry!" the head began swimming along the rickety wooden floorboards, lighting the way for the saurian, which had heard the footsteps stop at the door. He was down the hall, turning a corner as he heard a puck blast and the sound of debris scattering along the ground...  
  
(Yeah, it's a cliffhanger, but hey, who said life was fair? Anyway, next time, find out if Chameleon succeeds and the Mighty Ducks even learn the finer points of Anaheim's wonderful public transit system...well, I don't know if it's great, but hey, why not? Next time is Chapter 5, Duck Dues and the Bus Blues.) 


	5. Duck Dues and the Bus Blues

(EDITOR: It has come to my attention that some readers are disappointed in the fact that my term "Phil's Underpants Dance" didn't actually result in a dance. However, because of this, Chapter 6 has a nice little sequence added into it where Phil gets a little down with his bad self. Granted, it's a couple chapters later and I'm sorry for the unintentional deception in my title, but hopefully, this will at least partially make up for it.   
  
One more thing. This chapter isn't slated to be particularly funny. I just realized that reading through it. There's a couple small things, but nothing major. However, Chapter 6 and 7 (including a more in-depth look at Klegghorn) should be a little better, but we'll see. This is definitely not grade A comedy material, but hey, nobody's perfect!)  
  
Reality Bites  
  
Chapter 5: Duck Dues and the Bus Blues  
  
"Yipes!" Chameleon felt a foot fall loose on the floorboards, their flimsy composition whining as his body began to sink. With quick instincts, he lunged forward, turning around to see the floor collapse into the darkness below.  
  
"Perfect!" the head grinned, motioning Chameleon off to the side out of sight, leaving the briefcase right in the center of the floor. Soon, the ducks rounded the corner, spotting their prize and slowly trotting down the dim hallway. Chameleon made a mental note that the ducks seemed unable to notice the head, now plastered on the wall, looking straight at the approaching heroes, chuckling to himself.  
  
"3...2...1...HA!" Like clockwork, another portion of floor collapsed on itself, a flurry of startled screams echoed through the hall. Chameleon peaked out of hiding to see the giant gap in the floor, dust rising along with the sounds of bodies slamming against the ground of the lower level. Thankfully, the floor below was sturdy enough to prevent them plummeting down further stories. The ducks quickly assembled to their feet, helping Phil up and looking up the hole to the level above them.  
  
"What is this? Some kind of mondo fun house kind of deal?" Nosedive's face was cluttered with dust, his expression conveying stern annoyance. Tanya rubbed the back of her leg, while Wildwing used the mask to detect any other life readings. Chameleon squinted his eyes and stood as still as he could, believing the jig was up.  
  
"There's no one up there." he thought out loud. "Then how did it move down the hall?"   
  
"Man...this place must be spooked!" Nosedive clamored up, earning a frown from Tanya.  
  
"Let's get back up there and now!" Duke shouted, the sounds of cautious footsteps slowing diminishing out of earshot to the saurian upstairs.  
  
"What happened?" Chameleon turned to the delighted head, pleasantly rocking among the grooves of the soiled wall.  
  
"They couldn't detect you...I had something to do with that."  
  
"Would they be able to see me?"  
  
"Yes...if they do, then you'll be caught. They can't see me though."  
  
"I noticed."  
  
"You're more keen than Draguanus would give you credit for, huh?"  
  
"I don't know about that. What I do know is that I want to get out of here!"   
  
"How about a new plan?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Take the homing device out of the briefcase and warp out of here!"  
  
"Oh...yeah, that'd work!" Chameleon made an attempt to pry open the suitcase, but the sounds of pursuit interrupted. He began to run down the hall, the face following him, brainstorming another prank to pull on the ducks. As the saurian darted into a stairwell and ran up towards the roof, the head slid up the wall, blinking quickly to make the entrance collapse. Chameleon jumped as a cloud of heavy dust exploded forth, threatening to engulf him as he proceeded up the stairwell. Coughing, he fell out onto the roof, clutching the briefcase as he gasped for air.  
  
"Hurry, that won't keep the ducks away for long!" the head showed up along the gravel flooring, the rough texture giving him a wavy appearance. Chameleon made a second attempt to open the case, but it had a lock on it. Out of patience and taking his small laser pistol, he blasted the lock and ravaged through the contents. Tucked into a corner was a tiny, coin-shaped object with the Mighty Ducks logo on it.  
  
"Must they put their logo on everything?!" Chameleon muttered as he hurled it with all his might and stood upright. The sounds of puck blasters become audible, ropes blasting into the saurian's line of vision, hooking into the brickwork on the opposite edge of the roof. The saurian quickly activated his transporter, heading back to the Raptor, while the head sunk into the coarse texture and vanished from sight.  
  
"It should be here!" Tanya peered around, completely puzzled. After a couple minutes of searching, Duke called over the others.  
  
"Is that the homing beacon?"  
  
"Uh...yeah..." Tanya admitted, picking it up and closing her fist on it, frustrated at her failure.   
  
"Maybe the mask has a short...it hasn't picked up anyone here." Wildwing took it off, trying to survey it for visual damage.  
  
"What did I tell ya!? This place is spooked! And now, my contract is gone..." Nosedive's voice sunk an octane, drawing sympathetic glances from Duke and Wildwing, while Phil stayed silent, chastising himself for not making copies when he had the chance.  
  
"We might as well return to base..." Wildwing muttered, bitterly disappointed and now preoccupied with the impending loss of freedom for Nosedive and himself.   
  
"It's a long walk...and the car is totaled." Tanya replied drearily, casting another downtrodden gaze at her homing beacon as they slowly returned to the edge of the roof to climb back down.  
  
After an hour and a lesson in the finer points of public transit, the ducks and their manager found themselves back at the Pond. It was a long bus ride that was like a hybrid, somewhere in between a publicity stunt and an autograph signing. Every stop introduced another dozen fans that jumped on the bus, shamelessly begging for autographs. Half way through the ride, their haggard manager got off to go to his apartment, having enough excitement for the day. After an hour, the weary ducks finally caught a glimpse of their home, just barely escaping the ravenous fans and their relentless demands. However, the moment of peace was broken when their curiosity was aroused, seeing a police car and an accompanying van parked at the front entrance, coupled with the sounds or argument in the distance. The ducks ran up to see Mallory and Grin with an officer, the female duck in hostile conversation while a boorish, middle-aged man stood, his ugly brown suit reeking with the smell of mold. His eyes jumped up from their usual state of half-sleepiness upon the sight of the other ducks. Immediately approaching Wildwing, the police officer cut off his confrontation with an enraged Mallory to join him.  
  
"Are you Wildwing Flashbeak?"  
  
"I am." He answered hesitantly.  
  
"We are here for a Nosedive Flashbeak. I'm with Social Services."  
  
"Hey, no way man!" Nosedive shook his heads in refusal and backed up an inch.  
  
"And you are Nosedive, I take it?"  
  
"In the feathers, but I ain't goin anywhere."  
  
"Afraid you have to..." the police officer moved up, his young body sculpted with muscles, his tireless hands looked ready to choke the life out of anything in his path. The other man gave a nod, hoping that the teen would cooperate.  
  
"Just a minute! Who do you think you are, trying to take my brother away?!" Wildwing shot up defensively, blocking the officer's path.  
  
"Don't get yourself in any more trouble than you're already in." The policeman hissed warningly, unfolding a piece of paper out of the flap of his uniform, flipping it out for the avian to take. Wildwing's mask came off to an overwhelmed twist of his beak as he silently read over the form announcing his upcoming date in court. "Now, Nosedive, come with me."  
  
Nosedive looked at his brother's frantic eyes, returned back to him with concern. Wildwing only needed a nod of approval and he would've stopped the officer and risked his chances with the law. Tanya stood back, watching the scene uneasily, while Duke tensed up, shifting a step in front of Nosedive, also ready to defend him. The teen realized that he had at his disposal the assistance of his brother and confidante, but he would be only living life as a fugitive, drawing two ducks he cared about into the depths of turmoil with the law. Thinking of his teammates, Nosedive brushed Duke's arm aside, walking up to the policeman and bowing his head solemnly.  
  
"I give up. I'll go peacefully officer."  
  
"You're not going to jail."  
  
"Might as well be that." Nosedive said, sending a look to Wildwing, who looked like he was ready to collapse. The tall, white mallard couldn't fathom the thought of Nosedive being taken away again, so he began to tense up, mere seconds from lashing out at the humans when Nosedive held up his hands, placing them on Wildwing's shoulders, calming the large avian with an assuring glance.  
  
"No, big bro."  
  
"Dive...I won't let this happen."  
  
"No. Listen to me Wing. We got to cooperate. You've always told us to obey the law before...now shouldn't be any different."  
  
"This is hardly fair Dive. Laws are easy to obey when don't involve stealing your family away on technicalities."  
  
"You'll find the contract, Wing. I know you will. Until then, I'll be miserable in some rat-infested hole somewhere. Besides, you got a date in court and you don't want to ruin it." Nosedive gave his brother a quick hug, Wildwing frowning when his brother was prematurely pulled out of it, walking away with the officer and social worker, his hands held together as if wearing an invisible pair of handcuffs. Wildwing looked on helplessly, his frantic eyes unable to comprehend this turn of events. Gaining a comforting hand on the shoulder from Duke, the white avian watched his brother disappear in the van, slowly drifting out of sight, over the concrete horizon. Wildwing continued to stare for a moment, the other ducks watching on silently, unable to find the words to consol their leader. However, instead of sulking, the white mallard relocated the mask on his face, its assiduous symbolism already lifting their spirits.  
  
"We can't let Dive down! We got to find that contract now!" he directed his hand towards the Pond, he and the ducks heading down into their living quarters.  
  
"So, Mallory, what about your taxes?" Duke asked as they walked single file down the hall.  
  
"I have an appointment set up for the audit. I don't want to talk about it anymore..." she groaned as they entered the living room, heading down the corridor to the ready room.   
  
"With the Drake One we should be able to find out something about the events we experienced earlier."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Believe me, you don't want to know..." Duke sighed as the team approached the giant super-computer. Activating it, a computerized voice began to speak.  
  
"Tanya, you have -two- new messages."  
  
"Oh..." looking at the other ducks, she shrugged her shoulders. "Well, at least one of us should have E-mail. I'll look at it after checking out the recent disturbance."  
  
As Tanya began typing in buttons rapidly, the others watched as the screen flashed in between a wide variety of different visuals, eventually showing a three-dimensional model of the area where the ducks had been. Scanning for disturbances, Tanya snapped her fingers when a green spot appeared on the rooftop and several more at ground level.  
  
"Draguanus had some lackeys warping in and out earlier."  
  
"So, lizard lips is back already!" Wildwing clenched his fist, never lowering his glance from the screen.  
  
"Kind of an irregular plan of attack though..." Duke commented from a neighboring console that he was casually leaning on.  
  
"Can we track them?"  
  
"It appears that the homing device was discovered immediately before transport and was left behind. However, I may be able to trace the faint transport signature if the Raptor is in close range."  
  
"Do it." Wildwing responded, watching Tanya feverishly type for a couple seconds before an irregular beeping noise came from the computer. They all looked up as a blue screen announced that the computer had a fatal error.  
  
"Error number 25A?!" Tanya gasped as the other ducks looked at her dumbfounded. "This could only mean that the inter-dimensional transportation relay chip needs to be replaced!"  
  
"Come again?" Mallory asked, turning an unhappy look to the giant machine.   
  
"It means I need to go to Lectic-Land."   
  
"You serious? That store has that inter-dimensional thingy?" Duke unfolded his arms, the confusion apparent on his expression.  
  
"Well, uh...sure. After all, every series needs a place where the good guys can get any type of mechanical component possible."  
  
"Oh...yeah, I guess that makes sense."  
  
"Alright, Tanya, than we better go..." Wildwing took a step towards the Migrator before Grin added his first words to the conversation.  
  
"You might want to check your messages first."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I have an ominous sensation that something else unexpected will occur."  
  
"Really? And what makes you say that?" Mallory gave him a suspicious look while Duke adjusted his stance to interject.  
  
"Well, think about it sweetheart. Grin almost traded away, you getting audited, the kid being taken away...this can't be it..." his comments were interrupted by the horrid gasp from Tanya, as she stared at the screen, her beak hanging open in shock. Never before had the ducks seen her like this and awkwardly approached the female, her vacant expression reflecting disbelief at the screen. Looking up, Duke read the large print from the displayed E-mail message.  
  
"Dear customer, Lectic Land has experienced an ant infestation and will therefore be...closed...CLOSED!?"  
  
"It says only for a week." Mallory added, continuing to read where Duke left off.  
  
"There is no way Dive is sitting in a group home for a week!" Wildwing acrimoniously tensed his arms, eyes focused on the stationary Tanya.  
  
"If they even take him there!"  
  
"Oh God..." Wildwing's eyes widened a bit, imagining all the possibilities. After all, he had very little knowledge of the human-ran social system.   
  
"Don't worry, fearless leader." Duke tried to comfort him before Mallory joined back in.  
  
"Oh great...Tanya's in shock!"  
  
"Tanya! Tanya!" Wildwing waved his hand in front of her eyes before her rigid body grew fluid again, her beak still riddled with shock.  
  
"I can't believe this...not Lectic Land!" Tanya's voice shot up, trying to suppress her whining.  
  
"This is not good." Grin quietly remarked, his eyes fading into his meditation again.  
  
"Gee, duh!" Duke snapped, apologizing when Grin's eye opened in response.  
  
"Tanya, can't we get it from any other place?"  
  
"Well, Lectic Land had it all. I don't know if any other place would sell these components."  
  
"I heard some place called Best Buy had electronics..." Wildwing commented, rubbing his beak in thought.  
  
"Are you kidding?! They got nothing!" Tanya lashed back, the thought of the team recommending, to her, places to buy electronics, was revolting.  
  
"Well, I got an idea...but it involves some sneaky work." Duke raised his hand to his beak, his thumb and pointer finger rubbing his beak slyly to accentuate the sneaky part.   
  
"And what do you propose?" Wildwing folded his arms, turning back to Duke.  
  
"Let's break in and get the part."  
  
"Rob Lectic Land..." Tanya shot up, but Duke shot up a finger to quiet her.  
  
"Don't rob it. We'll get it, snatch the component, and leave the money at the register."  
  
"That's stupid..."  
  
"That's insane..."  
  
"It's been done on other Disney shows..."  
  
"It'll be perfect." Wildwing finished, looks of surprise painted among the females. "But, we'll have to wait until tonight."   
  
"Then it's agreed. I have to go and choose my special pick for this job, to make it extra special..." Duke slyly beamed, slipping out the door before the remaining ducks all looked at each other a little flabbergasted.   
  
"Special pick?"  
  
"He's a thief...maybe it comes with the job."  
  
"Uh-huh, sure Wildwing, whatever..." Mallory rolled her eyes and strolled out of the room. "Now if you don't mind, I'm taking a quick trip to the mall. Mervyn's is having a two for one deal and I can't miss out."  
  
"Alright. Be back here in a couple hours. It's already getting late."  
  
"Yeah yeah..." Mallory disappeared, leaving a silent Grin and Tanya, staring into space while Wildwing tried to assemble his thoughts together.  
  
"I sense tonight will be most...enlightening." Grin thought to himself as the sun slowly sunk into the western reaches of Anaheim. Soon, the heist of the century would be pulled off and somewhere among the urban jungle, a waterfowl teen was about to meet with his destiny...  
  
(Next time: How many Dukes does it take to screw in a lightbulb? Hopefully, not as many as it will to steal some mystical, plot-device of a part from an ant infested electronics store. More mayhem coming your way in Chapter 6, Headin' Down to Lectic Avenue!)   
  
(EDITOR: Sorry, a little 80's music joke there.) 


	6. Duke's Headin' Down to Lectic Avenue

Reality Bites  
  
Chapter 6: Duke's Headin' Down to Lectic Avenue  
  
It stopped. Nosedive gave a small yelp as the van skidded to a halt in front of a very large and derelict brick building that was assumed to be his final destination. Without a word, the social worker had disappeared from the front seat, leaving the teenager to his thoughts.  
  
"Alright, Dive, don't panic. After all, this isn't the end...maybe it's the beginning of some kind of wild adventure...all of a sudden, the door opened and the police officer faced him, giving him a cruel, malicious look while tapping his nightstick in his hand.  
  
"Oh crap, I'm dead!" Nosedive whined, backing up against the chain link barrier. The cop began to ascend into the hallowed cage of a pen and all of a sudden, his stick slammed against the side of the van, leaving a resonant boom that shook the metallic frame. He pulled away, leaving a splotch on the wall.  
  
"I've been waiting to kill that giant centipede for the whole ride here!" the officer gave the terrorized Nosedive a weak smile before inspecting the residue on his weapon. Jumping back out and motioning for Nosedive, the duck slowly slid out, defensively eyeing the officer who found the teen increasingly amusing.  
  
"Don't worry. I'm not gonna hit you with this." He said, waving it around, whapping the air mindlessly. Nosedive began to wonder if this police officer had ever heard the phrase cross-breeding.  
  
"Alright...I'm ready...take me to my prison."  
  
"Prison...what did I tell ya, it's not prison. Come on. It's right behind this building." Nosedive actually sighed relief as he scanned the behemoth brick edifice in front of him. Its sculpted decorations were enveloped in the form of animals, all casting him sinister glances. The duck never believed he would find human architecture so unnerving, but soon, Nosedive's thoughts had shifted when he was whisked down alongside the building, passing up its brickwork, out of the sight of the monsters. Soon, his eyes fell to the base of the second building, the same that would be his new home. The police officer and social worker stopped, hearing Nosedive begin to give a melodramatic expression of angst.  
  
"Oh the horror! The building...it's hideous, it's atrocious, and they probably never heard of comic books either! It's..." the policeman sighed as he coercively aimed Nosedive's face up from the ground to face the building.  
  
"It's...PHIL'S APARTMENT!?"  
  
"Well, yeah, he's your guardian. What did you think?"  
  
"I thought you were taking me to some group home where I would have the be the devastatingly cute and lovable orphan that gains the favor of all the other children and plans a daring escape to be with his real family again. Then, I could pitch the idea to Disney in a few years when they run out of movie ideas."  
  
"You got way too much time on your hands." The social worker muttered has he opened the doors for the others, entering the lobby and approaching the speaker phone.  
  
Phil Palmfeather was not in the mood for company. The manager had enough of the day's unpleasantries and just wanted to relax. His feet, ever so innocent and pleasant this morning were now crooked and ragged under his experiences with the Fruit of the Loom rejects and having to follow the ducks on yet another one of their crazy pursuits. Yet, the whole experience had influenced him to do something a bit cantankerous and out-of-character.   
  
Stripping down to his underwear, unfettered from the constraints clothes provided, he brandished a smirk to his CD, and deposited it in the player. Soon, the still form was treating to the alluring sound of Billy Joel's "Keepin' the Faith" and he began to slowly sway to the beat. The open window, ready to reveal his near-nakedness to the citizens below only made it more exciting. The chubby man was soon turning in circles, his hands thrusting out in all different directions, moving in tune with the rhythm as he showed off his posterior to the appliances scattered throughout the living room. It was definitely not a show worth paying for.  
  
"Those Hanes rejects may have got the upper hands, but I still got the moves..." Phil's dancing sped up as the chorus overwhelmed his senses, closing his eyes and could feel his feet leaving the ground, his entire concentration on the music rather than photo shoots or saving the Mighty Ducks from doing something perilous as to deplete from his profits. His large, generic-branded underpants was shamelessly flashing its tags to the walls as its bearer continued to wriggle his behind and wave his arms heedlessly. Soon, the tenants below were treated to a sharp thump as the portly manager found himself staring at the ceiling as the song reached his conclusion. Apparently, he tripped over the coffee table flanking his sofa.   
  
"Maybe I should sue myself for hazard pay..." he groaned as a loud buzzing noise made his hands flail in the air, his nerves electrified from the fright.  
  
"What the heck..." he scratched his stomach with a pair of car keys alongside of him and trying to get to his feet, landing with a loud thump on the paper ridden carpet when he found his underpants caught to a mangled leg of the table. Dragging his threadbare body to the speaker next to his front door, Phil rest his hands on the buttons, trying to clear his throat and sinuses in order to sound more professional. Unfortunately, the ducks and his companions heard Phil's attempts and soon felt a small pang of nausea.  
  
"Phil Palmfeather here."  
  
"Uhhh...are you done yet?"  
  
"What?!" Phil grumbled as he frantically reached for his clothes.   
  
"Uh, nothing. We got your adopted son here..."  
  
"Hey Dad!" Nosedive's loud and overbearing voice blasted out of the speaker, Phil taken by surprise, buckled under the noise and slipped to his knees as he was trying to put on his dress pants.  
  
"Booby?"  
  
"Booby?" the social worker looked to the police officer, who shrugged his shoulders in reply.  
  
"Yeah, Phil-meister! They brought me home...how nice of them, huh?" Phil's mind suddenly made the connection that the teenager was going to be stuck with him, in his apartment, shattering any remnants of tranquility. Phil gulped and shuffled his feet to stand upright again before answering, now effortlessly sliding his hands through the sleeves of his suit.  
  
"So, you are...staying here, booby?" Phil hesitantly replied, hoping that what he just heard wasn't true.  
  
"Well, of course, Dad, duh." Looking to the suspicion on the faces of the two public servants, Nosedive whispered to them. "He's a little forgetful...all that scheduling he does...such a cool dad, really."   
  
"Come on, Phil-meister!" Nosedive tried to insert a faint hint of pressing need into his voice, growing uncomfortable with the growing doubt on the faces of the others.  
  
"Uhhh...alright, just a minute." Phil turned off the speaker, giving a loud, audible moan to his audience of contracts and magazines before slamming the button to activate the main doors.   
  
Within a couple of minutes, there was a knock at Phil's door. The manager was already standing there, still shaking his head in denial at having to deal with more turmoil in his current state. Opening the door, his sweaty, battered form greeting the two men, Nosedive sliding around Phil and giving a wave.   
  
"Are you alright?" the social worker saw the pale strings of sweat on the portly man's forehead and grew a little concerned.  
  
"Oh...terrific." Phil responded joylessly.  
  
"Don't worry Dad! We'll get you all rested up!" Nosedive began to pull on Phil, trying to drop the hint to the manager so his company would leave. Thankfully, it seemed to work because the police officer seemed suddenly interested in the sight of a woman down the hall and the social worker rolled his eyes and vanished after him. With the door shut and a careful listen, Nosedive yelled in celebratory fashion.  
  
"FINALLY! Man, I thought those sleazeoids would never leave!" Nosedive gave a triumphant smile, falling back on the couch while Phil gave a small plaint, leaning against the wall.  
  
"What's with you, my main man?" Nosedive's face reappeared over the cushions of the couch, eyeing Phil casually.  
  
"I need...some aspirin and a nap..." Phil muttered as he stumbled off. Chewing down a half dozen pills, the bedroom door shut in the manager, who collapsed into his bed, grabbing an ice park off the nightstand and plopping it over his frayed eyes before drifting to sleep. Nosedive was left to himself, in a slightly stuffy room, the peacefulness of the scene excruciatingly boring to the impatient teenager. Immediately, he decided to buzz the other ducks on his communicator. As expected, the face of his brother immediately appeared in response, his mask removed with brightly illuminated eyes as he saw Nosedive.  
  
"Dive! Where are you?"  
  
"They took me to the most boring place in all the world."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Phil's apartment."  
  
"What?" a fuddled look hit Wildwing.  
  
"Phil's my guardian, so they brought me here...and it gets worse."  
  
"How much worse?"  
  
"Well, since you are a, quote, 'bad influence', I can't see you or the others...at least until your court appearance is settled. They told me in the van."  
  
"I can't believe this! Humans telling me I can't see my little brother!" Wildwing's provocation with the law only grew at their latest ruling. Soon the background flickered with activity as the teen caught sight of Tanya and Duke, both visually interested in the conversation.  
  
"Looks like I'm stuck here...major bummer, and Phil's drugged out on aspirin."  
  
"Don't worry, Dive. We'll get that contract and get you back here in no time."  
  
"Yeah Kid. We got a little business to take care of, but we'll be in touch." Duke now appeared, the screen split in the three-way conversation.  
  
"Ok, but hurry. Man...I'm smelling something...what is that?!" Nosedive's dramatic flaring of his nostrils drew chuckles from the other ducks.  
  
"Bye, Dive."  
  
"Bye Kid."  
  
"Brings me some comics soon!" Nosedive yelled as the coms turned off. Crossing his arms and staring out at the stale and monotonous room around him, Nosedive tried to find something to spark his interest.   
  
Back in the Pond, all the members of the team were assembling, Mallory a little despondent at first because she wanted to spend more time checking out all her previous purchases, but, she shifted into her militaristic persona before the others noticed. Tanya was still a little shaken up at the idea of breaking into Lectic Land, but Duke had been eagerly looking for a chance to use his golden pick, a present from the Brotherhood for ten years of servitude.  
  
"Look at this beauty!" he beamed, featuring the sparkling tool in his hand, his eyes dancing in awe. The other ducks were less than enthused over the little splinter.  
  
"Ha! What a pathetic present...I'd take the gold watch instead." Mallory scoffed at the pick, arousing a bit of disgust out of Duke.  
  
"Hey, don't disrespect this pick. Trust me, to a thief, it's far more valuable than any stupid puck launcher or giant mechanical vehicle."  
  
"It's a toothpick..."  
  
"Master thief's pick!" Duke contrived a small glance of impatience with his teammates and deciding to terminate the argument, slowly drifted to the Aerowing. Wildwing followed, Grin and the women taking up the rear.  
  
Minutes later, the vacant Anaheim Mall found its trash-ridden serenity violently interposed with the sound of the avians' vehicle, slowly landing on the ground, sending a fit of stray garbage into a dance upon its gusts of wind. Mallory grunted as she viewed the scene, it's simplistic beauty ignored by her teammates, now focused on the task at hand. She couldn't believe that their own leader was going to permit Duke to break into a business and steal a component for the Drake One. Even though they were going to pay for it, it still didn't seem to counter the feeling that what they were doing was wrong. What was even more pathetic to the red head was that Duke was noticeably defensive over his valued pick. Mallory's chair creakingly swung around, her elbow leaning on the cold paneling next to her as the group huddled, Duke slipping on his hood.   
  
"Oh great...look at ninja duck..." Mallory spat under her breath, the others seemed to be lost in the event unfolding. Duke nodded after a couple of indistinguishable phrases from Wildwing and the skinny frame of the thief disappeared into the night, soon his steadfast form was seen, its shadows scaling up the side of the simple brick building.   
  
Tanya looked over the site of her favorite hangout. Its characteristic build of a neon thunderbolt was now dead, the life sapped from the sign that used to illuminate the front in a dazzling display of color. Its window frames, piled up with scores of electronic gadgets was quiet, shrouded in darkness and forced to endure without the watchful eyes of customers. Its door was pad-locked, a chain door in front to doubly secure its entrance from invasion. Reminding signs of the reason behind its untimely closure (ant infestation) littered its unpretentious façade. Yet, all of its simplicity and her eyes couldn't fail to abandon the form of her ally, now on the roof and scanning for a clever entrance. Duke grinned to himself when he saw an exhaust vent that would perfectly accommodate his dimensions. Lowering himself in and articulately sliding through a few feet of neglected air conditioning vents, his eyes were treated to the dim outline of a cluttered array of shelves. In the far corner, a red light glowed alone, notifying the mallard that a security system was in place.   
  
"Seems to be a motion detector..." Duke slid his hand into a small component in his outfit, pulling out a pair of goggles. "Here we are..." sliding them on, he reassumed his investigation of the security measures. He soon let a soft groan.  
  
"Of course...this store's too cheap to provide anything mildly challenging..." Duke put the goggles away, noting only the front door was being scanned for activity. All of a sudden, the gray mallard heard the metallic enclosure around him began to whine and bend. Duke managed to mutter an "uh-oh" before he found himself sprawled on the carpeted floor, scatted scraps of metal surrounding him. Jumping up embarrassedly and dusting himself off, the thief took out his com and contacted the others.  
  
"I'm in."  
  
"Alright...Tanya, you're on."  
  
"Uh, uh...alright, let me think. Do you see any cylindrical objects with a depostitor capassitator?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Uh...a roundish...thing, with a distinct bluish jewel-like object in the center?"  
  
"Uhhh...let me see...there's so much junk in here...OH NO! HELP!" Duke's image in the com vanished and a dizzying display of the various portions of the roof ensued. The mallard's screeches were audible over the coms and the other ducks worried that he had faced an attacker. Quickly, Duke's embarrassed face reappeared, trying to give them a confident glance as if nothing had happened.  
  
"Duke! What happened?!"  
  
"Nothing to worry about fearless leader...suddenly, the thorax of an ant flashed over the com screen of the ducks, followed by Duke's rampant howl, brushing it away violently, a drop of sweat projecting off his forehead.  
  
"You don't like ants...do you?" Tanya asked, a small hint of a grin forming at the corners of her beak.  
  
"Not really, no..." Duke heard the background snickering of Mallory and groaned in defeat. He was successfully humiliated. Back to work, Duke activated a small light and scanned across the scores of various mechanical pieces. His eyes quickly began blurring over the images, the lack of interest among the monochrome assortment made him shake his head.  
  
"How does Tanya do this?"  
  
"Uh...how do I do what?"  
  
"Oh, geez, you guys are still there?!" Duke mumbled, raising his wrist to reveal the faces of his teammates again.  
  
"Duke, did you find it?" Duke groaned indiscreetly; the obviously common questions of Wildwing reeked of annoyance.  
  
"If I find it, I'll tell you."  
  
"Well, hurry it up then!"  
  
"I got no idea where to begin looking...YIKES!" Duke's beak met the floor once again, his arched form turning its puzzled head to reveal he tripped over a monitor. "Who the hell puts a monitor on the floor!?"   
  
"What?"  
  
"Stop that!" Duke barked at the com, soon jumping to his feet at the site of encroaching little ants. He gave a yelp and nervously peered at the faces of his friends again. "Tell me where to go Tanya! NOW!"  
  
"Will you...uh, quit being so...so, pushy!?"  
  
"My feathers are starting to twitch...I got ants at my feet! Hurry up!"  
  
"Well, uh...let me think..." Duke pranced down the aisle, trying to escape the insects. He wildly lashed his hands against his body, feeling the small pangs of tickling feet among his feathers and skin.   
  
"Try aisle six." Duke's eyes immediately shot a glance upward, looking for a suspended sign. Grunting at the absence of any such guidance, he soon scanned the aisles and saw little, yellowed pieces of notebook paper, taped to the edges of tattered shelves, each with crude numbers scribbled in permanent marker. The thief spotted the six on one of the sheets, and followed its direction.   
  
The ducks heard another yelp as the com gave them another view of the concrete floor. Duke had tripped again, the thief hissing cuss words as he rubbed his sore shoulders. When the mallard jumped up to his feet, now noticing the stray keyboard, he immediately progressed yelling at the com, the other ducks plugging their ears and rewarding the thief with laughter.  
  
"Some master thief! Can't even keep his balance!" Mallory snorted, leaning back and making sure Duke could see and hear every last chuckle.  
  
"Hey! I can't help it if these people can't clean!" Duke tried to defend himself, but already out of pride, his grumbling beak turned to the shelves, his eyes heading along the stygian rows of dull machinery. Soon, a sparkling object had commanded Duke's attention, a sparkling blue orb cast into a cylinder. The thief cheered and held the item up above his head in victory.  
  
"FOUND IT!" he yelled into the coms, the other ducks failing to share his enthusiasm.  
  
"Yeah, alright Duke. Now will you back out here!" Tanya blurted in reply.  
  
"Fine..." the thief groaned, searching for the price tag on the object. Seeing a small sticker on the bottom with a ten on it, Duke took the note from Tanya out of his pocket and along with a ten-dollar bill, he headed back to the counter to leave it for the employees.   
  
"Did you leave the payment?" Wildwing asked, the thief almost reaching the limit of his patience with the importune questions  
  
"Yes, Wildwing! I'm leaving now." Duke ran down a random aisle, his feet watching the ground for wayward computer parts. Unfortunately, he hit the floor again when his head bashed against a low sign warning customers to watch their head. With a small flurry of cuss words, he punched the sign, its wooden frame cracking on impact. Heading to the back door, he took a moment to ceremoniously reveal his golden pick, admiring its beauty for a quick second.  
  
Meanwhile, at the front of the store, the floor behind the counter was coming alive with a bright display of colors. The head slowly materialized, blotted by skittering ants, and casting a shy look up to the alarm. With a gust of breath, he blew the note and bill that Duke had left, directly into the motion detector's range. Soon, ear-shattering alarms came on, the place shrouded in red lights. Duke practically fell over in fright at the commotion, and looked at his com; the other ducks giving him questioning looks.  
  
"What did you do?!"   
  
"Nothing! I don't know what happened!"  
  
"Get out now! Klegghorn's going to throw a fit if he catches us here."  
  
"Alright, I'm picking the lock now..." Duke began fiddling with the lock, finding his concentration hampered by the tension in the air. He succeeded after a few seconds, opening the back door to see the Aerowing hovering over the concrete field, ready for take off. Absent-mindedly heading for escape, Duke tried to grab at the pick and accidentally snapped it in two. Stopping halfway to the vehicle, he gasped at the pick, its broken form taking Duke's mind completely away from his surroundings.  
  
"What's he doing?!" Mallory shouted to the others, bearing her teeth to the windshield, watching the thief in mourning. Wildwing responded by dashing out the side door, running up to Duke, shaking his shoulders.  
  
"Duke, let's go!"  
  
"My lock..." Duke sounded almost childlike, holding up the broken half, his beak drooped in an incredulous look.  
  
"Let's go!!!" Wildwing gave a yank of Duke's uniform, putting the thief in motion. He suddenly pulled back and darted for the back door, amid Wildwing's counter commands.  
  
"I have to get the other half...the Anaheim Police will find it!"   
  
"Damn..." Wildwing grunted, hearing the sounds of sirens on the horizon, on the opposite side of the building. Duke returned quickly, the two diving into the side door, shutting it forcefully as the thrusters blasted the vehicle off into the night.   
  
"My pick...my beautiful pick...ruined!" Duke sat in his seat, continuing to stare at his splinted possession rolling in the folds of his feathered palm. Out of sight, Mallory rolled her eyes while the other ducks were gathered around Tanya, explaining the properties of the device Duke had retrieved. The Aerowing sputtered over a dense forest of residential buildings. At the summit of one of the towers, Nosedive gazed out to see its winged form drifting in the direction of the Pond.   
  
"Man, guys, already having fun without me!" Nosedive grinned to himself. After the Pond engulfed the vehicle, the teen plopped down in front of Phil's computer. He found an interesting site on the internet to spend the time; reading about his life story told in seventeen different versions through fan fiction.  
  
As the Mighty Ducks touched down in their base again, a single form stood on a distant tower. Chameleon was shivering from the cold nightly winds, finding the head appearing at his feet, his sulken form illuminated in rich color as he awaited the next part of the plan.  
  
"How are you enjoying the show?" The head smiled, prompting Chameleon to rub his hands together excitedly.  
  
"Loving it...ju-just-just a little cold." Chameleon responded in a stutter, feeling immediate warmth surrounding him, comfort setting in, simpering in reply.  
  
"There. Better?"  
  
"Yeah, peachy!"  
  
"Good...now we can finally prepare. The ducks are about to start resolving their problems with that thingy that they took. However, I'm about to send them all for a loop..." the two beings began laughing, both anticipating the discovery back at Lectic Land.  
  
Klegghorn chomped down on another sprinkled doughnut as he awaited the search conducted by his lackeys.  
  
"Man, ever since Krispy Kreme opened up that location next to the police station...I've been in heaven!" he savored the taste of his dessert, a tall, lanky office approached him, interrupting his nirvana.  
  
"WHAT IS IT!?" Klegghorn bellowed, pointing his half-consumed doughnut at the man as if a weapon.   
  
"We found something really interesting..." he replied, flashing a small collection of gray duck feathers.  
  
"Ah...so the Mighty Ducks have been robbing the place I see."  
  
"The back door was unlocked. It seemed to have been picked open."  
  
"A-ha...must be the old one with the eyepatch. I heard he was a former thief. But, somehow, I have the suspicion that this is a setup and there will be a stretched out plot that will result in the reinstatement of the duck's spotless records and send them off to their little hockey arena to play another celebratory game."  
  
"Well...does that mean we do nothing?" the officer scratched his head.  
  
"No way. It's always fun to throw a monkey-wrench in their saving-the-world business. Let's bust them!" thrusting the last crumb of the doughnut into the air, Klegghorn jumped in the police car, turning on the siren and heading straight towards the Pond at full speed...  
  
(Funny how the police always discover the wrong evidence, isn't it? What will happen this time? Will it be another "Puck Fiction" or will the ducks save the day and their butts yet again? Well...duh, of course they will, but it has to be an entertaining ride! Next up is "The Klegghorn Zone"!) 


	7. The Klegghorn Zone

(EDITOR: This chapter takes a good look at a rare character in the Mighty Ducks universe, Klegghorn! I'm still in the process of writing Chapter 8, which hadn't been started until recently because I've kind of had a dip in my interest. I was hoping people enjoyed the dancing Phil in Chapter 6, and I can only tell you that it's not the last of him! I anticipate that there'll be 9-10 Chapters total for this story. I'm already thinking about another to start on and I'm debating releasing an older one that I never shared...when I first started writing fan fiction. I think many here would like it because it has a ton of Nosedive-Wildwing angst that had been watered down in the released "The Troubled Times" trilogy (the epilogue was, in actuality, the second ending I wrote). Please read and review; I always like to hear feedback (who doesn't)! Thanks to everyone who actually did leave me reviews too!  
  
Oh, and I made up the references to fan fiction in this story, just so you know.)  
  
Reality Sucks  
  
Chapter 7: The Klegghorn Zone  
  
Klegghorn's police car sped over side streets, splintering puddles from last night's storm. However, the weather outside barely registered as a concern on his focused mind. Tonight, he was hunting duck. The police chief, at first, felt challenged by the presence of alien waterfowl in his precinct, but as more adventures had unfolded and Klegghorn was introduced to perpetrators far beyond the normal scope of vandals and robbers, the stubborn man had learned to accept the Mighty Ducks as credible heroes. However, that did not necessarily mean that the chief found them agreeable. While they were now in an auspicious alliance, Klegghorn was always ready to look for any evidence that would help him land the ducks in hot water, or even better, off the planet.  
  
"You, my little pretties, are going to make my night!" Klegghorn sniveled at the gray duck feathers in his hand, running his fingertips through the downy texture a couple of times before setting them back down. His hand was now inveterately searching for a doughnut among the folds of a Krispy Kreme box smothered in the passenger seat.   
  
"What?!" his eyes momentarily darted to the box, now empty, causing a line of curses to be muttered under his hot breath. Fortunately, his mood was about to experience another sporadic change when a doughnut shop popped up over the horizon, a large Dunkin Dounts sign rotating slowly over the desolate commercial landscape.   
  
Klegghorn pulled into the parking lot, and tried to look for a drive through, but sputtered another grunt of disgust when he found it was closed for renovation. "Great, now I have to go in..." he said, pulling the car recklessly into the nearest parking spot and jumping out, sinking his hands into his pockets and pushing the doors aside with his shoe.  
  
Every doughnut shop in Anaheim knew about Klegghorn's insatiable appetite, becoming a local legend of sorts. What always amused city planners was that Klegghorn's precinct had the majority of the city's doughnut shops, all capitalizing on their favorite customer. The police chief had no preferences; any place that had the word doughnut on it was fair game. His unwavering love for doughnuts had to do with his late wife, who had been caught having an affair with him. Klegghorn was once a happy, athletic man who was willing to do anything for anyone, a real friendly person. Once a mere lieutenant on the police force, his fellow officers thought that he didn't have much of a future ahead of him, especially since he lacked the inexorable zeal that perpetuated officers into the upper ranks. Unfortunately, while he eventually learned this lesson, it was taught the wrong way. His wife was a kind and loving woman, but one with a weak will. When Pierre, the milkman, came into her life with an addicting charm and suave mannerisms, the woman went head over heals. Klegghorn found the divorce papers a short time later. From that day, the cop swore never to drink milk or consume its solid supplement, the cookie, his favorite snack. Soon, Dunkin Dounts up the street found a new reason to be happy. The hardened cop had taken a liking to them and combined with his new vitality in the workplace, he quickly climbed the ladder. Eating doughnuts had endowed him with a small pot belly, but the cop always saw enough action to avoid completely filling out. Needless to say, it was destiny that introduced him to doughnuts, and never again would any other deserts tempt the aging man.  
  
Klegghorn stood in line, staring up at the Hall of Fame, a wall dedicated to popular customers that had patronized the store on a normal basis. The police chief smiled to himself when he saw that the entire wall had his portrait on for every month, since the store had opened. The monotonous display seemed pathetic to other customers, but it was like a trophy to the chief of police. No one would ever topple his monopoly over the doughnut market...but suddenly, something broke the uniformity of the display. A new face had appeared among Klegghorn's, winning the coveted honor this month. The man adopted a contentious snarl as he marched up to the counter, taking his turn to order. It passed undetected by the employee, Jim, who was happy to see Klegghorn.  
  
"Hello, Captain Klegghorn!" Jim smiled warmly. He was a regular employee at this location and one of Klegghorn's favorites. Always dressed in a neatly pressed uniform, the young teenager always adopted a kind sincerity with his customers that had earned the teen a lot of admiration from the customer base. Jim was also supportive of Klegghorn, finding the police chief a strong and sensible man. He also realized the financial weight this particular man had carried; without his patronage, surely the store would have to let him out of a job.   
  
"What is the meaning of that?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"THAT!" Klegghorn's small hand shot out of his pocket, snapping back to condemn the picture of the man invading his wall. His raised voice attracted attention from some of the back employees and customers in line.  
  
"I'm sorry Captain...our boss decided that Mr. Porter down the street would win it this time. It appears he's beating your monthly quota by 100 doughnuts."  
  
"That fat pig down the street is muscling in on my territory! You've seen him...he's a giant blob of a man! He spends all his social security here, while I've been using hard, earned money!"  
  
"Well, there is a way you can dethrone Mr. Porter." Jim responded, drawing a look of sly interest along Klegghorn's wrinkled mouth.  
  
"Oh...and how so?"  
  
"Just beat out Mr. Porter. Order something over 100 doughnuts. He couldn't possibly come back in the next hour before we close and it is the last of the month, so the manager would be forced to give you the title."  
  
"Hmmm..." Klegghorn gave a quick second of contemplation. With a quick inventory of the money in his wallet, he made the order.  
  
Give me twelve dozen doughnuts, on the double!" he raised his hand as if making a declaration. Immediately, the manager, having a quick fling in back with one of the female co-workers, stopped upon hearing the shout of his valued customer. Straightening his greasy hair and unkempt uniform, he came out, fastening the buttons on his shirt and scrambling to greet the cop.   
  
"Mr. Klegghorn...oh, it's so great to see you sir." The manager shoved aside Jim, who frowned at the sycophant of an employer. To Jim's satisfaction, the cop didn't fall for it.  
  
"Can it, Larry! How dare you think you can put a picture of that man on my wall! I'm the top customer, and don't you forget it!"  
  
"Oh, but Mr. Klegghorn...he, uh, uh...threatened me, yeah, that's it!" Larry gave a nervous smile, trying to calm Klegghorn's arched and fiery gaze.   
  
"You're telling me he threatened to sit on you or something!?" he bellowed, the customers and employees in earshot trying to stifle chuckles.  
  
"Well...not exactly..."  
  
"Let me give you a piece of advise....Larry." Klegghorn harrowed the man with a clenched fist, closing in on the loose folds of his uniform and pulling him face-to-face. "You go to that wall, take down that picture, put up mine, and consider me customer of the month before I get mad. When I get mad, it's really a sight to see, Larry. Not to mention, you wouldn't want your store to be the only one in the entire precinct to be blacklisted by myself...do you!?"  
  
"No." the small, fearful peep was barely audible.  
  
"Good, then we are in agreement." Klegghorn stood erect once again, drawing a small line of hoots and cheers from the other employees. They were more than pleased to see their craven manager humiliated.  
  
With a graceful balancing act, Klegghorn took the pillar of boxes and headed out, turning his head just long enough to see the manager take down the portrait of Mr. Porter and replacing it with yet another identical picture of the chief.  
  
"No one, but no one will take me down...I rule the doughnut stores..." he grinned as he piled the boxes in his car. Plopping down into his seat, his heads digging for a couple of greasy sweets, he pulled out and contently resumed his trek towards the Pond. "Now back to business!" he roared happily, accelerating the car and turning up his favorite polka music on the radio.   
  
"And this next song on APRS (Anaheim's Polka Radio Station) is dedicated to our police chief, Klegghorn, who is making our streets safe tonight." The radio announcer bantered over the speakers, followed by Klegghorn's favorite song.  
  
"Sometimes, living in Anaheim ain't so bad..." Klegghorn smiled again, his mood uplifted by his music and doughnuts. Jumping on the highway, he could see the distant form of the Pond materializing on the dawn horizon.  
  
Inside the Pond, the Mighty Ducks, sans Nosedive, were gathered around Drake One, Tanya attempting to replace the broken part and have the system up and running again. Her top half was enveloped under the stomach of the mechanical beast, as her hands pivoted through wires and circuit boards to locate the defective piece.  
  
"How's it coming Tanya?" Wildwing asked, Duke grunting to himself at these annoyingly leader-like questions the white mallard was ceaselessly pressing.   
  
"I need some more time. It would be...uh, easier to do this without a crowd, you know."  
  
"I think I will go meditate." Grin replied, slowly turning around and sliding out the door without a sound. Mallory followed, returning to her top priority, straightening out her income tax information. Wildwing and Duke remained, watching her legs turn and twist as Tanya slowly slid deeper into the dark underbelly.   
  
"Come on Wildwing. Let's try and contact Nosedive or something." Duke was at first reserved to speaking to his friend alone, but he knew that by getting the leader's mind off of watching Tanya, the woman could have a chance to work without his nagging inquiries. As expected, the white mallard immediately perked up at the sound of his brother's name and accepted the invitation.  
  
Leaving Tanya alone, the two ducks got together in the living room and activated their coms. "Nosedive, are you there?" Duke started to speak, Wildwing patched into the signal to join the conversation, taking off his mask and changing into casual wear.  
  
Among the darkened interior of Phil's apartment, a duck was laughing hysterically at the glowing screen of the computer. A lone light flickered overhead, deep shadows grooved into the slumping from of Nosedive, causally sipping at some lemonade and leaning back into the chair, enjoying some reading material he found at an internet site. His com, unlatched and lying along the scores of paper on the desk, was quickly relocated over his wrist, the forms of his brother and friend each occupying one half of the screen.   
  
"Wing! Duke! What's the haps!?"  
  
"Hey, Dive, how are you, little bro? Phil treating you well?"  
  
"He's asleep, but yeah, I'm alright. I also found something to do!"  
  
"What's that?" Duke piped up.  
  
"You guys ever heard of fan fiction?" Nosedive asked, drawing raised eyebrows in response. "Guess not."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"People write stories about characters and submit them so others can read them too. It's like mondo cool, man!"  
  
"So...that's what you've been doing all this time?" Wildwing scratched his forehead with a finger.  
  
"Yeah! Would you guess that people write stuff about us?!"  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Yeah, really! I was just goofing around on the net and found this really cool site that writes fan fiction about us! Some of these stories are just so weird, and funny!"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Well, this author calling himself 'Spring Chicken' wrote a story about Duke's hair, like coming to life and trying to eat us! It's totally wild!"  
  
"Humans..." Duke groaned, giving a quick brush of his hair as if to check on it.   
  
"Geez, who writes that kind of stuff?" Wildwing grinned, peering over to Duke a couple times before looking back at Nosedive.  
  
"Wait, there's lots more here, Wing. It seems people like to write about you and me for some reason. I haven't read the parts about me yet, but boy, these little tales about you are just too funny!"  
  
"What do you mean?" Wildwing readjusted himself on the sofa and grew a little apprehensive. He wasn't convinced that these stories would portray him in a positive light, especially if Nosedive found them extremely amusing.  
  
"Well, half of them say you're a mother hen, but what can I say...they're right!" Nosedive's eyes momentarily returned to the screen, a shocked gasp soon modifying his beak, making Wildwing nervous, especially with Duke's laughter from the chair.  
  
"Why Wing? You and Canard!? Oh my gosh...I never knew!"  
  
"Never knew what?!"  
  
"You two went on a romantic cruise together!!!" Nosedive's image flickered as the com's screen aligned itself with the floor. The teenager had fallen out of the chair, rolling on the carpet amid piles of paper, laughing hysterically at the prospect. Duke, replied with a more restrained, yet equally amused roar of laughter. Wildwing's cheeks flushed as Duke put an outstretched hand over his forehead and leaned back to continue, the commotion drawing Mallory out of her room, caught in an irate mood.   
  
"What's going on out here?!" she screeched, turning a look of condemnation to Duke and then her complexion fading to interest when she saw the cries of denial Wildwing was making into the com. Activating her own, she saw the tearful face of Nosedive, choking on laughter and struggling to stand upright. "What's so funny?! NOSEDIVE!" the female's shriek suddenly melted the humor out of Nosedive's face and he turned to the com again.  
  
"Mal Mal?"  
  
"Who else? Now what is so damn funny?!"  
  
"Well, I found this place that has something called fan fiction...people write stories about characters they like..."  
  
"Yeah, so?" Mallory bitterly replied, the acrid tone convincing Nosedive to get straight to the point.  
  
"Well, there's a story here about..."  
  
"Nosedive, don't you dare!" Wildwing interrupted, eyeing his brother angrily, trying to intimidate him into keeping quiet. Nosedive, however, ignored his brother's protest and continued.  
  
"There's a story about Wildwing and Can..."  
  
"NOSEDIVE!"  
  
"Wildwing-and-Canard-going-on-a-romantic-cruise!" Nosedive slurred the words together in a last ditch effort to get them through. Wildwing chided Nosedive once again, but the teen saw Mallory's face, first hit with surprise, and slowly, all her anger dissipating as her beak turned upward to develop a smile. Suppressed giggles soon followed, suddenly broken by a fit of laughter, Mallory lowering her hand and thrusting her head back to give a strong belly laugh. Wildwing sunk even lower into the folds of the sofa, Nosedive once again continuing his tirade.   
  
"Did any of them wear thongs?" Duke's recovered long enough to ask, tears rolling out of his good eye. Mallory leaned over the chair, joining in with Duke in a chorus of laughter, as Nosedive was reading over the page.  
  
"No, but they are stuck in the Honeymoon Suite!" Nosedive's reply was more than enough to get Duke successfully on the ground, howling once again. Mallory now replaced the thief, taking position in the chair, stretched out over its length, her legs swaying in soft kicks as her form buckled from amusement.   
  
"Nosedive...you are so dead when I get my hands on you..."  
  
"Wing...come on, it's a story!"  
  
'Well, how'd these humans even know about Canard anyway?!"   
  
"Wing...seriously, does the word 'Disney' ring a bell?" Nosedive's snorted as he resumed liberating the last of his giggles.  
  
"But that's all a lie!"  
  
"Wing...it's a fictional story! Yeesh, don't get so defensive!" Nosedive tried to assure his brother, but his words were downplayed by the continuing background noise of Duke and Mallory.   
  
"Is this author trying to say we are some kind of item or something?! I don't go for that sort of thing! Why would anyone insult Canard's memory like that?!" Wildwing started growing more hostile, Nosedive rolled his eyes at his over-reactionary brother.  
  
"Wing...read...my...beak. It's a story! It was meant to be funny...it's fictitious, hence the words FAN FICTION!"   
  
By now, Duke and Mallory successfully quelled their laughter and noticed how defensive their leader had become. Muddled with embarrassment, Wildwing groaned as he sunk back in his seat. "Maybe calling Nosedive was a mistake..." the white mallard thought as he suddenly heard the intercom, signaling the presence of a visitor.  
  
"What the?" Wildwing and the other two ducks jumped up, heading over to the security panel and checking the monitor. They saw the recognizable form of Klegghorn, defiantly stationed in front of the door, looking as if he was expecting answers. The leader thought nothing of it at the moment, and disconnecting Nosedive, he with Duke and Mallory, headed up to the front door. A minute later, the cop was greeted by the towering form of Wildwing and his two teammates, backing him up on both sides and decked out in battle gear.  
  
"Well, if it isn't the ducks..."  
  
"What is it Cap?" Wildwing was casual, but he quickly sensed the distaste in Klegghorn's reaction.  
  
"Don't give me that 'Cap' business. So...just what were you doing at Lectic Land earlier, huh?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Go ahead and play dumb...but I found these little beauties just lying around." A small group of gray feathers flashed in front of the leader's face, the mask gazing at them as if unimpressed.  
  
"And these are ours you think? See...white feathers!" Wildwing took off one of his large gloves and showed his ivory-colored hand to the cop, who only rolled his eyes.  
  
"Hello, and just who is this?" Klegghorn sidestepped the leader, pointing the feathers to Duke with strong accusation, his eyes lighting up with a celebratory gaze as he saw the hue matched exactly.  
  
"Ha, that doesn't prove nothing; Duke L'Orange never leaves feathers lying around!" Duke crossed his arms confidentially, coolly brushing aside Klegghorn's enraged fist, sporting the feathers for inspection.   
  
"Well, in that case, let me bring my witness..." Klegghorn grinned in a reproachful manner, pointing to the approaching vehicle, parking next to his car. Out stepped a dark character in a cape and tight black leather. He had two pointy spikes at the top of his mask, and in the grooves of it featured eyes that were rigid and querulous.   
  
"Mighty Ducks, meet my visiting friend, Batman!"  
  
"Uhhh...hi." Wildwing offered his hand, which only prompted Batman to place them on his hips, striking a heroic stance as dawn's first rays of sunlight shined upon his sculpted exterior. The other ducks were unimpressed.  
  
"How is he going to prove I was connected with the heist?" Duke almost broke out in a laugh, staring down this pitiful excuse of a hero before peering back at Klegghorn.  
  
"I ran these feathers through my Batlab...they are yours, Duke L'Orange!"  
  
"Ha, go home and play superhero someplace else, Batboy. Klegghorn, where did you find this moron?!" Duke started to crack up, but before Klegghorn could reply, Batman was lunging at Duke, the two rolling to the ground, struggling to pin the other. Wildwing shook his head at the sight before him and suddenly found himself looking back at Klegghorn.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Well what?"  
  
"Didn't you just hear me...or are you still zoning out here? What about you or your pals taking a visit to Lectic Land last night?" Wildwing blinked rapidly and took a quick survey of the scene. Duke and Mallory were still positioned behind him and there was no sign of this "Batman" person anywhere.  
  
"Yeesh...I must have been imagining things..."  
  
"What?!" Klegghorn's eyebrows slanted at a steeper angle, his mien growing more dissatisfied with each passing moment.   
  
"I mean...we did go to Lectic Land last night, and it was closed. It was very important, and we did pay for the inter-dimensional...uh, chip we retrieved."  
  
"Then why does it look like it's been robbed?!"  
  
"Hey! That place was a mess to start with. We took a little ten-dollar piece, and left the money and a note from Tanya on the main counter. The owner of the store knows her." Duke shot a defensive glance to Klegghorn, before dauntlessly crossing his arms.   
  
"Well, funny how we didn't find any money or a note..." all of a sudden, the radio in Klegghorn's car came on, an officer calling for the chief. Angrily, the portly officer stumbled back to the car, barking into the receiver.   
  
"Klegghorn here, what is it?"   
  
"We found a little more evidence at Lectic Land."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Ten dollars and a note listing that it was for something called a...uh, inter-dimensional...uh, transportation relay chip? It was from someone named Tanya or something."   
  
"Damn...foiled again!" Klegghorn grit his teeth, grabbing another doughnut and stuffing it in his mouth gingerly.   
  
"What's that Captain?"  
  
"Nothing. Guess the Mighty Ducks didn't steal...they paid for it, BUT!" Klegghorn's head swung out of the car, turning to the ducks. "I'm going to check with the owner of the store first. He can charge you for breaking and entering, regardless of whether you paid for it or not!"  
  
An hour later and 13 doughnuts later, Klegghorn grumbled to himself as he left the Pond, the ducks (once again, lacking Nosedive) were gathered around the front entrance, watching him go off with inquisitive stares.  
  
"Wildwing, what was that about?" Tanya turned to her leader, confused about the whole altercation.   
  
"Uhhh...beats me. I think he's a very poor little man and we need to pity him." Duke answered for the white mallard, drawing looks from the others.  
  
"He just wanted to bust us." Grin flatly tossed in, his answer seemed to satisfy the others.  
  
"Let's get back to work..." Wildwing commented, waving his hand and leading the others back inside.  
  
On the opposite end of the parking lot, a shapely form grimaced as he watched the police car vanish behind a swarm of buildings. The morning winds shifted and the being kneeled down, looking at a spot of grease and speaking to it amid hushed tones. Unaware to mild-mannered citizens, it was Chameleon speaking to his colorful friend, complaining about the plan not working.  
  
"Some big plan." The saurian said, flicking a small pebble down the sidewalk inattentively.  
  
"Hey, sometimes, plans turn out to be duds. No one's perfect, Greeny."  
  
"Yeah, but you said it was going to be big." Chameleon folded his arms and pouted. The face rolled his eyes in response.  
  
"What can I help it if the ducks are lucky? I thought I hid the money and the note well. You can't blame me if there's actually a credible cop on the Anaheim police force."  
  
"Well, fine..." Chameleon picked up the briefcase next to him and motioned to it with one of his twisted arms. "What do we do with this then?"  
  
"Hmmm...I gotta think. I'm afraid I'm reaching the final stage."  
  
"Final stage of what?"  
  
"The final showdown, the ultimate prank, the masterpiece of mayhem."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Well, it's a little iffy, but why not?" the face seemed as if it was trying to convince itself.   
  
"Why not what?!"  
  
"Well, I can't spoil the surprise yet. So far, the ducks have been incredibly apt at solving our little problems. So far, we've successfully retrieved the briefcase, but they have already repaired the computer and the magical erasing I've done of the term in that kid's contract has already worn off. After that, the leader will be able to have the reckless endangerment charges thrown out and the teen will return home. Second, we got the IRS coming in a week to audit one of the female ducks, but she is actually going to get through that fine...her records are spotless."  
  
"So you're saying we got nothing?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"So now what?!"  
  
"Well, that's what the iffy part is about. I have a small plan that will hopefully chase the ducks out of house and home. Of course, this is risky since you may be seeing some action...and your underpants-covered robots."  
  
"Well, I got nothing else to loose..." Chameleon shrugged. The face and the saurian faded away in a green light, the final preparations to be set in place. While neither villain expected complete victory, they hoped to at least make things as difficult for the ducks as possible...  
  
(Next Time: Phil and Nosedive gets visitors...who'll be "Stayin' Alive"? And is Chameleon applying for a job at Century 21? The Mighty Ducks face their greatest challenge yet in "Chameleon Hanes the Ducks Out to Dry"!) 


	8. Chameleon Hanes the Ducks Out to Dry

(EDITOR: Sorry about the wait for this chapter, but I hope it's worth it. This chapter actually ended up kind of long. I almost considered chopping this into two separate chapters, but that'd be mean since the best places to divide were usually the most entertaining portions. I anticipate two more chapters following this extended one. Currently, I am about half way finished with Chapter 9, which is one of those more serious parts of the story, but I'll try and loosen it up a bit.  
  
Thanks to everyone who left reviews for me. I'm reading all the new stories and I'm immensely enjoying them!)  
  
Reality Bites  
  
Chapter 8: Chameleon Hanes the Ducks Out to Dry  
  
Nosedive slowly rotated in his chair to momentarily take a break from the computer screen. Earlier, he had found plenty of diversions outside when the roaring of the Aerowing intruded on the silence in the darkened apartment, and later on, the flashing lights, identifying the presence of Klegghorn, emanated from the parking lot of the Pond. Unfortunately, this lackluster night didn't introduce any excitement for Nosedive to personally partake in, but instead found himself perusing over the biography of his friends, personified in dozens of different methods by various writers. Fan fiction was the only thing keeping him from tearing off his fingernails by the silent boredom that was holding the apartment hostage. Ever since Phil drifted off to sleep, not a peep could be heard among the internal confines of the home. The fax machines and the copiers were dormant, unwilling to disturb the serenity and encourage their master's wrath. As the plot unraveled over the past couple of days, the hapless teenager found himself ripped from the safety of his home and family and forced to endure a strenuous trial of boredom as the only home he knew was hovering over the city, on the other side of the window. The duck sighed once again and returned to his screen.   
  
Until now, Nosedive never stopped to consider looking at the stories that tried to explain his life. Something about it made him uncomfortable. Even though most of the musings he scanned over had very little credibility when predicting the past experiences of his friends, he began to have an odd fear that perhaps he was an easier character to read into. Nosedive was the average teenager, always looking for fun and excitement in a world that offered plenty of it, yet beyond the insouciant exterior, there always seemed to lay deeper emotional problems that tainted the soul. The teen had his skeletons, but he didn't know if the human writers could somehow interpret that from something so informal as a newspaper article or merchandise in a store. Nevertheless, he reached the end of the list of interesting stories, and his name was the only remaining one not highlighted. Giving a suspenseful sigh, he clicked on it and winced as the screen flickered in compliance...  
  
"Well, this is...uh, uh, interesting."  
  
"What is it?" Wildwing walked into the ready room with fresh-brewed coffee as he saw Tanya assuming her characteristic stance at the helm of the Drake One.  
  
"Nosedive's contract...remember when it seemed that his clause was erased?"  
  
"Do you mean it's back?" Wildwing saw the lines of text on the screen and grew hopeful that it was what the woman was getting to.  
  
"Yeah! It's all here again...that's so weird. Another thing was unorthodox too..." Tanya began musing over the buttons of the computer to produce another image, this time of the fire rescue scene from the preceding day.  
  
"Those teleportation signatures that I originally found are no longer listed as ever had occurring. It seems that the computer experienced...well, uh...errors." Her face slightly crinkled with distaste at the sound of that final word.   
  
"Well, at least we can rescue Nosedive and clear the charges on me. This is great Tanya. When can we put this into action?"  
  
"Well, uh, let's see. It's...4:20AM, and the office doesn't open until 9:00AM, so we still got a bit under five hours left."  
  
"Great work Tanya. I'll go inform the others." The leader vanished from sight, leaving Tanya alone to her thoughts. She frowned at the Drake One, feeling a bit ashamed that her pride and joy had now shown its imperfections to her teammates, after months of flawless performances.   
  
"Maybe it's because I don't talk to you or something, Drakey?" she ran her feathered digits over the smooth panels of steel and wiped small smudges of dirt of the more neglected keys. Tanya stopped when she realized that the game mode on the Drake One hadn't even been used in quite some time. The thought of Nosedive missing wasn't exactly a catastrophe for her knowing that he was hovering in the residential forest a few blocks away, but the deathly silence that took his place seemed to sap the vitality she secretly appreciated  
  
Out in the living room, Grin was once again in his lethargic state of meditation while Duke was watching an odd television show.   
  
"Hey guys, I got great news!" Wildwing's cheerful disposition was enough to garnish the attention Duke's glance and the raising of Grin's eyebrows. "The Drake One seems to have Nosedive's entire contract back so we can rescue him and finally have these charges dismissed!"  
  
"That's great! Things are miserably quiet here without the kid."  
  
"True. Our little friend contributes much to the life of this domicile."  
  
"Uhhh...ok then. Where's Mallory?"  
  
"I don't know. Did you try the gym?" suddenly, the sounds of insults rose from the television and the sounds of combat drew the ducks' attention to the show. They saw a corpulent man trying to attack another man dressed in drag as the gray-haired host shamelessly inveighed both of them over the roars of an audience.  
  
"What's this?"  
  
"Late night trash television. I think it's called Jerry Spitter or something like that."  
  
"What's going on?" Wildwing stooped his head to one side in interest and silently viewed the action on the screen. More verbal threats were being tossed around and some muscle-bound security guard named Steve was being cheered on as he stood between the guests.  
  
"Well, basically, the skinny guy is mad because his uncle's former roommate's boyfriend, which is also his cousin, is cross-dressing and trying to earn money to become a woman, but the thing is, the skinny man is having an affair with the doctor the big guy wants to perform the surgery."  
  
"Humans..." Wildwing could only mutter the word as his concentration splintered its ties with the television and returned its gaze to Duke.  
  
"Ok, what were we doing?"  
  
"You were looking for Mallory. She's probably in the gym, but I don't know."   
  
"Already heading there, thanks anyway." Wildwing sauntered down the lengthy corridor and soon, the methodical beating of a punching bag was audible. Entering in the gym, Mallory had a picture of a man taped up on the sack and was being smashed apart by her gloved fists.  
  
"Who's that Mallory?"  
  
"The person who's supposed to audit me later on. I saw his sickening smiley face and wanted to tear it to shreds."  
  
"Yeesh...poor guy's going to have a bad day when he meets you, huh?"  
  
"Like I didn't have a bad day when this whole mess started? I'm a clean duck; I don't evade my taxes. I'm in the military and they think after my years of service that I would cheat the government?"  
  
"This is the human government, not the one on Puckworld."  
  
"Well, it's not my fault they just can't respect military personnel."  
  
"I don't understand them either, but we got to tolerate it. After all, we are on their planet."  
  
"It's funny they do this just a few weeks after we sank Draguanus' battleship."  
  
"We'll never be able to understand humans."  
  
"Guess you're right." Mallory resigned and set her gloves on the bench, the crumpled paper of the IRS auditor was soon found among the trash as Wildwing coaxed her back into the living room. "You want to see how weird humans can really be, Mallory? You got to check out this show..."  
  
Nosedive sat back with heavy eyes, almost appreciative of the fact he wasn't capable of putting up with the flickering of the screen against the drowsy colors of late night Anaheim. He began to slowly fall back, the chair squeaking as it arched back into a more reclining position. Progressively, as darkness faded in and dreams were preparing themselves for a nightly round, Nosedive was suddenly liberated from his drowsy trance by a knock at the door. He doubled over, jumping to his feet and contriving an unhappy groan, slowly approached the door. He timidly took a quick view out the peephole and leapt back, once again on the floor.  
  
"Phil...PHIL!" Nosedive barked for the manager, running towards the bedroom as the rapping on the front door grew louder. Practically destroying the bedroom door, Nosedive tripped over a pile of contracts and flipped head over heels into the bed with Phil, waking the manager with a startled yelp, sliding off the side of the mattress and thudding on the carpeting.  
  
"Help! Boobies, I'm being attacked!" Nosedive screamed again when he saw Phil's threadbare body thrashing on the floor, only a pair of briefs preventing total nudity.  
  
"Phil...where's your clothes?!" The manager didn't respond to the comment, too busy shaking away the last remnants of sleep.  
  
"What the..." the manager's head popped up over the side of the bed, his drugged red eyes giving the teen a devouring glance, before his ill-mannered condition grew fearful at the sound of his front door flinging open. Both characters immediately jumped under the bed, the duck pointing out the giant outlines of beings scanning the living room down the hall.  
  
"Your underwear monsters are real Phil! How in the hell could they be real?!" a repressed squeal in Nosedive's voice accompanied his timorous composure.  
  
"Oh no, they came to get me! You got to save me booby, you just got to!" Phil's chubby hands were soon rattling the common sense out of Nosedive. The teen drew a cocky smile and dashed out from under the bed, standing in the door frame, eyeing down the monsters that now seen their prey in view.  
  
"So, who sent you...Hanes or Fruit of the Loom?"  
  
There was no verbal reply from the stoic beings, only a moment of silence and then suddenly sparking to life again, moving in to aggress their enemy. Nosedive noted that they were stiff in their gait, adopting mechanical movements lacking in articulation. He decided to use that to his advantage and charged, doing a namesake under the first one and shoving the second-in-line, who collapsed onto the living room, drawing the rest of the group backwards clumsily. With more room, but caught in a pincher attack, Nosedive leapt straight up, scaling the chest of one of the monsters before flipping over it and propelling forward, now with his back flanked by the computer and window. Before readying another plan of attack, one of the monsters stopped the rest, stepping to the front line. This creature was much smaller in size, endowed with the fluidity of movement his minions lacked. Holding his hand up to signify a hold in the action, he began to speak in a voice that served as a poor imitation of mechanical verbiage.  
  
"Give us your manager and no harm will come to you."  
  
"Fat chance, tin man!" Nosedive inched his legs apart, his hands once again balled up into fists.  
  
"Ok, fine than..." the underwear-coated creature snapped his fingers and soon, the jittery form of Phil Palmfeather was trembling within a fellow monster's grasp.  
  
"Let him go!"  
  
"You are not in a position to make demands, duck."  
  
"Well, I guess I'm going to have to be brave then, huh?" leaving no room for delay, Nosedive lunged forward, tackling the lead figure to the ground. However, the teen immediately had to dismount to avoid a blistering fist swung by one of the other attackers. The leader got up and surprised Nosedive by trying to propose a draw, but the duck didn't listen. Leaping back into the fray, the leader parried, yet the teen was able to strike another one of the monsters, pulling his throbbing fist back achingly when his blow was rewarded with a resounding thunk.  
  
"These underwear monsters aren't really monsters Phil!" Nosedive grinned, taking out his puck blaster and backing a step for a quick load. However, the manager wasn't a proponent of the idea of scattering robotic entrails across his apartment and attempted to prevent Nosedive's rashness.   
  
"Wait booby, stop!" the momentarily diversion was all the leader monster needed to grapple the gun from the teen's grasp, a kick to the midsection as his parting gift, but successfully in possession of the gun. When Nosedive lunged for his weapon, he was caught in mid-air by one of the large beings, spun around once and lobbed directly into the opposing wall. Thrashing against the surface and accompanied by the snapping of his joints in sickening distortion, the mangled frame collapsed to the ground in a heap. Trying desperately to get up, Nosedive's last threads of sentience were prematurely snapped by the gun impacting against his cranium, its small casing shattering as the duck fell in a torpid stupor.   
  
"BOOBY!" Phil cried out, hoping that Nosedive would regain consciousness, but the stillness assured him the avian was out for the count.  
  
"I told him not to get involved..." the leader's voice suddenly dropped its falsity and soon had resembled something the manager could quickly identify, the inimitable sound of the Chameleon, one of Draguanus' henchman. However, in a rare moment of insight, he deduced that the poorly crafted disguises covering him and the lackeys indicated that they didn't wish to be identified, so Phil played along.  
  
"Uhhh...so who are you guys anyway?" Phil chuckled nervously, the leader's gaze producing more sweat on Phil's heaved brow.  
  
"None of your business...but, we want a little something from you, big boy!"  
  
"Hey! You want to add slander to your breaking and entering lawsuit?!" Phil bellowed, his fleeting display of bravado was quickly quelled by the brief-clad robot's tightening grip, making the manager squirm in pain.  
  
"Ha! You...sue me? That's a laugh..." Chameleon gave a large guffaw as he swaggered for a second, spinning down into a chair, eyeing the manager amusedly. "So...we seem to have caught you in your undies..."  
  
"Briefs!"  
  
"Yeah, whatever..." Chameleon figured a glass coaster only to have it accidentally slip from his clothed digits as it fell to the floor, cracking against the steel foot of one of his accomplices.   
  
"Hey, watch the merchandise!"  
  
"And what are you going to do about it?"  
  
"I could do something...but nah, I think you'd be too chicken."  
  
"Oh, really?"  
  
"Yup." Phil grinned to himself, devising another classic Palmfeather scheme.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Oh, it just so happens I know there's something I can do a million times better than you stupid underwear monsters..." Phil hoped to discreetly coax the saurian into his plan, inwardly smiling when the miscreant's brow raised in interest under the folds of oversized briefs.  
  
"You? And what could you possibly do better then me?" Chameleon approached the manager, assessing the human's expression as he folded his arms defiantly.  
  
"You're looking at the best dancer in Anaheim!" the saurian actually reeled backwards from the words, because it had hit a rare spark inside the Chameleon's psyche. Long ago, in his previous times among the nadir ranks of Draguanus' forces, he actually had a talent for dancing, which often earned him a bit of respect among his compatriots. To see the pudgy manager, his large frame tightly compressed under the oppressive grip of a drone, anomalously challenging him to a dance competition was the last thing he had in mind. After his visage cleared from ensuing flashbacks and returned to the sweat-trodden face of the human opposing him, he leaned up close, a writhed finger shoving into the beige skin upon each syllable for emphasis.  
  
"You are on! I pick the song, you pick the conditions."  
  
"Here, in the briefs, first one to get knocked out wins." Phil's psychological victory over the naïve saurian gave him the puissance to free himself from the robot's bounds. He gave a quick stretch of his briefs before passing a quick glance of worry to Nosedive, still dormant on the ground. The saurian went to look through compact discs scattered in the far corner of the room, deciding to engage in inept conversation.  
  
"Where'd you get those stupid underpants anyway!?" Chameleon chuckled, causing Phil to turn away from the young duck, his brow protuberant in anger with the insult.  
  
"These are good briefs! Durable, long-lasting..."  
  
"And cheap!"  
  
"So I get them at Wal-Mart...how about yours!?" Phil's arm quickly extended, yanking at a rim of a pair of briefs wrapped around one of the saurian's arms. Before his protest could be aroused, Phil jumped back, suddenly contemptuous.  
  
"Calvin Klein!"  
  
"Really?" Chameleon stopped to investigate the tags and was stunned that a saurian as non-conformist as Siege could possess such an urbane fashion sense. After all, these large wrappings were taken from his room (without him knowing, of course).  
  
"Well, Mr. Yuppie-Underwear-Monster-Thingy...prepare to be bedazzled!" Phil assumed his starting position as Chameleon deposited an agreeable compact disc into the player, the two taking to the floor, standing quiescent until the sounds of "Stayin' Alive" began to dominate the phonic scene.  
  
"Ah, disco...one of my many skills..."  
  
As the song started, Phil pulled out all the moves. He vivaciously gyrated his pelvic in tune with the beat and sent his arms into streamlined thrusts of perfection, turning about on the carpet gracefully. Chameleon tried futilely to keep up with the manager, but when he tried a belly bounce with Phil, it resulted in a dazed stupor, next to the latent body of Nosedive. The saurian leaped back into action and tried to breakdance, only to crack his knuckles painfully. His hands rendered useless in sharp pain, he tried to follow the manager's quick trot, but tried over his crooked toes and banged his head against the steel leg of one of the observing droids. Chameleon groaned as he lightly shook his head to clear the cobwebs, almost falling over again when Phil began emulating the voices on the Bee Gees mellifluously and while singing, his deceptively powerful hips were capable of toppling a few of the unresponsive droids, busy watching the scene with perplexity. The saurian crawled out from the turmoil and feebly cowered before he met the fading rhythms of the song with a powerful thrust of the manager's thunderous hips, sending him into the arms of a chair on the opposite end of the room, inebriated from the abuse.  
  
The song had ended and Phil finally awoke from his dancing fit and surveyed the scene of destruction. Chameleon was decisively discomfited, his dissemble in shreds and contorted tail flickering to match his torpid state. The droids were in a heap, caught in a state of inert stupefaction from what had just transpired. Phil, sodden with sweat, stepped up to the CD player, turning it off and leaning back against the wall, a celebratory sigh soon curtailed with the sight of Nosedive's opened eyes, the teen still supine, but with a look of disbelief on his beak as his opaque pupils froze on his manager.  
  
"What...the...hell...PHIL?!"  
  
"I told you booby. Nobody outdances me!" Nosedive slowly arranged himself upright, physically shoving his beak shut. He had witnessed much of the contest, riddled with trepidation to see the large posterior of his manager riveting in harmony with the beat, the hapless Chameleon being embarrassedly outclassed every step of the way. The duck's gaze turned to the saurian, his form plastered over a recliner, beginning to regain sentience. The two heroes watched their foe awaken, both awaiting his first move, but instead, he imitated Nosedive's look of utter shock.  
  
"How did you do that?" Chameleon quipped; his extremities remained straggled over the form of the chair humorously.  
  
"I'm the master!"  
  
"You sure are...I mean...whoa, Phil-meister!" Nosedive congratulated his manager. Chameleon, benumbed by his obvious failure, could only readopt his intrinsic role as the bad guy. Within seconds, the avian and human froze when the simultaneous cocking of guns cut short their victorious moment. Two pairs of hands were strung in the air, the saurian laughing, straightening himself and resumed stature next to his metallic minions.  
  
"Hey, boobula, I won fair and square!"  
  
"And whenever do bad guys keep their word? Draguanus taught me better!"  
  
"You slimeball saurian loser!" Nosedive bantered off with his characteristic zeal.   
  
"Feathered freak."  
  
"Mental midget."  
  
"Fatuous feather-duster." The insult made the heroes look at each other.  
  
"Where did you learn that one, you neglected nerd?"  
  
"From Draguanus...you hard-boiled butthead."  
  
"Careless cretin."  
  
"Big-headed buffoon..."  
  
Duke had found himself bored with late night television and was strung back on his bed, the lights down low as he closed his eyes and listened to police radio. The Anaheim police wouldn't exactly appreciate the ducks encroaching on their channels of communication, but it mattered little to the gray-feathered thief.  
  
"This is Officer Fieldman. I'm getting calls from the neighbors for disturbing the peace on the eleventh floor of the Anaheim Villa. Apparently the perpetrator is, one, Phil Palmfeather..." Duke immediately sat up, the sound of his manager's name sparked his attention. Another police officer proceeded to reply. "This is Officer Longfellow. I'm investigating the disturbance right now, and am at the villa. Neighbors are reporting they are hearing...the Bee Gees?" Duke gave a small grimace, but then his curiosity rose. Nosedive obviously lacked that kind of taste in music and Phil wouldn't be so obnoxious as to crank the volume to such an extreme degree. Yet again, the duck couldn't ascertain trouble equating with the situation because not even Draguanus or his henchman were known to have an infatuation with disco music.  
  
"Might as well go get Wildwing..." Duke switched off the radio and calmly ambled his way down the corridor. He found Wildwing hunched over, a disgusted scowl on his beak, which was almost pushing against the screen. Obviously, he was trying to hide something.  
  
"Hey, Wildwing..."  
  
"WHAT?! Who's there!" he quickly shut off the monitor and swung around, a pleading look of innocence adopted to send Duke off the trail, but it was all done in naught; the thief was already submitting inquiring glances.   
  
"What'cha looking at, fearless leader?"  
  
"Nothing...nothing at all...just checking E-mail."  
  
"I thought Tanya was the only one with E-mail."  
  
"It's for the whole team."  
  
"Then why wasn't I told how to access it?"  
  
"Uhhh...you missed the meeting?" Wildwing's crooked smile blatantly failed to convince the gray mallard.  
  
"Give in, Wildwing. I know you are looking at something that's bothering you."  
  
"Duke...it's nothing. Here, let's go have some coffee." Wildwing tried to divert the thief to the kitchen, his large feathered palm practically shoving the thief away. The leader tried to veer the conversation towards practice and strategies, but by the time he blinked, Duke was gone. He drooped his beak, gabbling at the thief to see him firmly placed in front of the reactivated monitor, skimming over the secretive text. A stifled chortle escaped when the leader precariously yanked him back, pushing the computer off with a socked toe.  
  
"Wildwing...reading about that romantic cruise, huh?"  
  
"I wanted to see what Nosedive was looking at."  
  
"Or find out where you should book the tickets!" Duke quipped, beaming in amusement. By the time his misty eyes could clearly make out the leader again, the white mallard already had enormity written on his beak.  
  
"Yikes...give Mallory that look sometime! You actually look credibly angry!"  
  
"I AM!"  
  
"Wildwing, calm down..." Duke began withdrawing step-by-step as the white mallard encroached, his fists parallel to his body, veins protruding in malicious intentions. The thief actually began to experience a tinge of fear deep in his stomach and tried to disarm the situation with some quick words. "I-came-to-tell-you-Nosedive's-in-trouble!"  
  
Immediately, Wildwing responded by ferociously grabbing Duke's wrist, and within milliseconds, the thief felt his lanky body being dragged along the floor behind the tenuous mallard, his adrenaline-induced voice braying into his com.  
  
"Team, Dive and Phil are in trouble! To the Migrator NOW!"  
  
"Whew..." Duke was able to dislodge his appendage and thought about informing Wildwing that the situation probably wasn't nearly as precarious as he made it sound. Yet, then again, he wanted to live, so the thought was hastily dismissed.  
  
Knocks and greetings were bearing at Phil Palmfeather's door. Shortly before arriving, the ruckus from the apartment had completely ceased and now an excruciating cumbersome silence ensued. The policeman leaned back against an adjacent wall, fearing what he may find on the opposite side of the door. He knocked one last time.  
  
"Mr. Palmfeather, this is the Anaheim police. Please open up...please..." he almost whimpered the last word.   
  
Never had the officer been harrowed so much while on the force. He envisioned gruesomely dissected corpses, leaking vital fluids all over the ground, or a robber with a firearm, holding the occupant hostage and forcing this policeman into a fatal shootout. He gulped and feebly touched the doorknob, as if he had the clairvoyance to feel what was inside the domicile, yet he couldn't pick up on anything. Futilely sighing, he leaned on the knob, turning with ease, allowing the door to glide open on its dulled hinges. On the carpet, assembled in between the scattered furniture, laid two bodies, the cop fidgeting with the flashlight with his trembling hands as he slowly arched the beam of light to them. The smell of putrid sweat hung heavily in the air, covered with a hint of muskiness. Gulping inward, the young officer leaned over and pointing the light directly at the large human. It was Phil Palmfeather. Next to him, equally as incapacitated, was the recognizable form of Nosedive, the youngest member of the Mighty Ducks.  
  
"Mr. Palmfeather? Uhhh...Mister...uhhh...duck?" the officer slowly extended the flashlight's handle, wincing as he sensed it contacting with flesh. He screeched in pure fright when he felt the body twitch in reply. The human began to stir, his squinting eyes shielded when the flashlight's ray was pointing back in his direction.   
  
"Who is that?"  
  
"Wildwing..." the police officer gave a terrified shriek, jumping completely off the ground, and landing on the ground next to the two waking forms. Taking out his firearm and shakily guiding the light, he saw a large white mallard with his arms up in surrender.  
  
"Calm down officer! It's just the Mighty Ducks. We're checking up on our manager and fellow team member."  
  
"Don't do that!" the inexperienced officer only let them off on a minor chastisement. Unmindful of the fact there was supposed to be no contact between the parties, the officer called in to announce that apparently an attempted break-in had occurred, but no causalities were present and nothing had been stolen. Leaving soon after, the ducks gathered around the forms of their manager and teenager, the latter quickly caught in a tight embrace by his brother, who studied every square inch of his face for injury for a quick moment.   
  
"Bro...calm down...I can't breathe!" Nosedive gasped hoarsely as Wildwing loosened up and put a hand, now divested of armor, on the back of the teen's head. Immediately, the older sibling's eyes grew large and distressed pupils studied the back of the mallard's head while the beak expressed a pained sneer. A large knob could be felt on the back of Nosedive's head, now tender to the touch.  
"Ouch, stop Wing! That hurts!"  
  
"What happened Dive?" the duck and human exchanged a glance, both pondering how they would ever be deemed sane after this explanation.  
  
"Better sit down bro, it's a wild one...and please Phil, no visuals..."  
  
Mr. Collier caught the sight of something commanding his complete attention. Never did he expect that today, of all mornings, that such a desirable piece of fellow humanity would be applying for a position under him. She gave off flirtatious giggles as he carefully examined the perky bosom, their soft mounds teasing at the fabric that was barely securing them. The smell of lavender tantalized the nose and clouded the man's mind with perverse thoughts, the kind that would earn him time in the doghouse back at home with his wife. The slender arms ending in perfectly crafted fingernails, keenly painted in a hue that flawlessly complimented the immaculate, silky skin. Digging a shaky finger into the tie to allow breathing space, the employer leaned back, contemplated the pros and cons of allowing his marriage to continue unimpeded, and could only mutter...  
  
"You're hired (gulp)."  
  
"Thanks!" Energetically bouncing to attention, the young woman extended one of her delicate hands, the man afraid to touch with a grip as tainted as his own. After all, he was tracing the fine-laced threads of her blouse more than giving consideration to her qualifications.  
  
"So...don't you have something you want to give me, sugar?" the tawdry desires of the man were only met by a folder impounding on his desk, the woman leaning back with a puckered smile.  
  
"What's this?" he crowed disappointingly.  
  
"Oh...I did a little research. Turns out that Mr. Palmfeather doesn't join the Arrowhead Pond. They've been cheating the government and I would want to think lawful men like yourself would like to see these ducks fried!"  
  
"This is the deed to the Pond!"  
  
"Take a look at the name signed on the contract."  
  
"Desiree Studmuffin...who's that?"  
  
"Why me...of course!"  
  
"Prove it...sugar..." yet, his hints fall upon unrelenting ears, meeting only with his nose firmly counterpoised with a state identification card.  
  
"So, why didn't you bring this up with the authorities?"  
  
"Oh, because it was willed to me just a couple days ago by my now-deceased grandfather. Oh, my poor papa!" crocodile tears stained the mascara as tarnishing streaks where quickly wiped away, the rounded cheeks again free of obstruction.   
  
"How about an affidavit to go with this?"  
  
"Oh, now where'd I put that thing?" the girl innocently chuckled, her posterior turning to the man, earning a small whiff that was meant to resemble a whistle.  
  
"Uhhh...never mind, I believe you, I believe you!" Mr. Collier had enough of a peep show, even though the effeminate body was conservatively clad in sensible business attire. The mental undressing proved too tempting to already lewd trains of thought.   
  
A few minutes later, Ms. Studmuffin stepped out of the offices, a neon sign illuminating the letters spelling out "Century 21". Veering into a side alley behind the commercial string of buildings, the woman's dainty forms soon melted away to the misshapen, gaunt appearance of the Chameleon. Soon, the amorphous head spread upon the brickwork wall, the bright afro muted slightly by the radiance of the morning sun.  
  
"Getting a little too immersed in the role of pretty woman, aren't you?"  
  
"Hey...did you see how that man was checking me out? Who wouldn't want to tease the pig?"  
  
"Well, I must admit. The plan is working, but your cover's blown."  
  
"Ah, who cares? The Raptor is far from the city and the boss is too deep in brooding to plan anything to beat those dumb birds."  
  
"Well, in that case, let me forecast dire straits, straight ahead!" the head whooped along with the saurian. Within hours, the ducks were to discover that nothing lasts forever...  
  
(This story is slowing winding to a close, but not without a few more difficulties for our poor waterfowl heroes, especially in the housing department. Chapter 9, "Domed", is coming your way!) 


	9. Domed

(EDITOR: This chapter is not as funny as the last, but it's a lead in to the final chapter, coming up. I've been considering how to end this story, and what you see for the last two pages was a spur-of-the-moment deal. This is the first chapter that I've released that didn't have at least one proceeding chapter completed. The next chapter, 10, is the final, and I'm only about 2 pages into it, and personally, kind of struggling with it, so it may be a little while (not too long, hopefully not longer than a week). I'm actually finding myself a bit distracted, because another story is coming to mind; something much less funny, and perhaps even morbid. Well, sticking with the lighter disposition that this story was written in, here's the next chapter!  
  
Oh, and I actually got an AIM screen name for my author name, "Justsomeone12" (had to add the number). Contact me if you'd like to chat or something!)  
  
Reality Sucks  
  
Chapter 9: Domed  
  
Early weekday mornings in Anaheim were atypical of the metropolitan areas strung across the United States. Strings of highways carving apart folds of humanity, serving as conduits for the dominate army of the automobile, people traveling en mass to various locations scattered about the dissected grids of urbanized ground. Yet, Friday mornings had that special sanguine charm that didn't make the skies gloomy with the mobilization of disgruntled underclassmen. The weekend was coming, a chance to push the paper aside and patronize the entertainment districts while drinking your problems away and socializing with your friends. Even more popular than the revered combination of drugs and alcohol was attending a friendly game of hockey. Many of Anaheim's commuters took the opportunity to flash a quick glance towards the ominous dome over the horizon from their smog-ridden death traps, smiling in anticipation as they would happy sway in the crowds, watching their diligent waterfowls heroes ameliorate their pangs of misery as they dedicated yet another score to the masses, a point for the little guy. One can only image the outrage, a fulsome melody of car horns honking in enraged impatience when the radio stations nonchalantly disrupted the plans of countless denizens by announcing that the game this weekend was cancelled and the Pond was being extradited to what was its lawful owner, Ms. Desiree Studmuffin.  
  
Beyond the pillars of bolted concrete lay the tattered remains of commercial strips, struggling to survive the daily struggle against despairing penury. On one such street, a small brick box, devoid of any ornamentation, sat the offices of a localized Century 21, with the salacious man holding a document that would soon introduce the ducks to homelessness. The outside world shared a secret the avians in their underground home was still oblivious to. Deep inside the pond, in the bunkers that instituted their headquarters, the Mighty Ducks were beginning to gather for the morning coffee. Violating a police order, they now had Nosedive in their custody, sleeping in his own bed for a change while Phil invaded the couch of the living room. Yet Wildwing, even amid a sleepless night, was chipper, especially for the prospect of clearing their names with the miraculous recovery of the Drake One's memory banks.   
  
"Should we have Nosedive come too?" Mallory asked while stirring her coffee at the kitchen table. The ducks had taken refuge there from the abominate snores of their plump manager.  
  
"He's been through a lot for one night, and he's sleeping so peacefully."   
  
"Yeah, but Phil and Nosedive should be there considering Phil is considered Nosedive's guardian and it eliminates the government's need to make an official mandate." Tanya inserted into the conversation, taking post at the coffee machine.  
  
"Yeah...I guess so..." Wildwing sighed in reply and slowly shuffled the chair out, his large frame slowly wading out of the room and down the hallway to his brother's room. He felt slightly peccant at having to awaken Nosedive, especially after dealing with the traumatic experience of seeing Phil divested down to his bare briefs. Knocking at the door, he gave a soft grin when the familiar whining reached the white mallard's ears. Everything felt normal for that moment of time.  
  
"Dive, wake up. We need to get everything settled at the social security office." Incoherent mumbling was all the teenager was capable of doing. No matter what the circumstances, he always had the most arduous time shaking off the tempting vestiges of slumber. Wildwing decided not to give him the satisfaction of remaining in bed and entered the room unannounced. As expected, Nosedive was interposed between a plethora of comic books and a few scattered articles of clothing. His bed was swamped with junk, but that's how he preferred it. Of course, the older sibling never found Nosedive's unkemptness very compatible with his own sense of cleanliness.   
  
"I swear, Dive; we should have never got separate bedrooms. Look at this mess!" Wildwing reached out to yank the covers off the somber duck, but the teen inconspicuously readied a hand and swatted at his brother's reach, Wildwing putting his arms on his hips and shaking his head amusedly.   
  
"Come on Dive..."  
  
"Five more, Wing..." Nosedive sputtered the words out, turning his head down into a Captain Blasto comic, the golden locks folding downward to conceal his face once again.  
  
Wildwing developed a small scheming grin and oblivious to the dozing form, he slowly gripped the ends of the bed and affrighted the teen when the elder sibling flipped the bed on its side, Nosedive sliding to the cold floor in a waterfall of comic books and jeans.  
  
"WING!" Immediately shooting up and relaying a venomous look to his brother, Wildwing only laughed in reply.  
  
"You're up!"  
  
"That's low, big bro."  
  
"Hey, you knew I'd do it."  
  
"Don't you get it? One minute, I'm laughing at fan fiction about you dressed in tutus and the next minute, Phil was shaking his caboose and absolutely killing Chameleon in some crazy disco dance. I'm psychologically damaged!"  
  
"Man, Dive, I definitely missed you..." Wildwing took an unexpected direction out of the conversation and approached Nosedive, pulling him into a tight bear hug.  
  
"Wing...you're smothering me..."  
  
"Ever heard of tough love?"  
  
"I call this painful, not tough."  
  
"You're really hurting Dive?"  
  
"Well, no, but I want you to let go!" Wildwing gave an affectionate smile as he let go, patting his brother's bare shoulder and doubling back out of the room. Just as Nosedive made for his shirt, Wildwing's head bobbed back inside.  
  
"Hey...we want you out here in five minutes. Got that?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, go away..." Nosedive's little grin affirmed his relief to be back home, even if it was under the guardianship of his coddling big brother. Wildwing gave another smile and disappeared again, the door hissing softly as it closed in the teenager to the peaceful messiness of his room.   
  
"Man, it's nice to be home..."  
  
Little did any of the ducks know that a massive crowd was assembling at the front doors of the stadium. A makeshift stand was quickly erected, a convoluted mess of microphones taking center stage in preparation of the news. Excited reporters clamored about the big announcement, something they know would not be met with positive response from the citizenry of Anaheim. Klegghorn and a small contingency of cops even showed up, the stingy old man munching on doughnuts, eagerly awaiting the ducks' reaction to the announcement.   
  
"It's a good thing I didn't take the day off. First, it's a two-for-one sale at Dunkin' Dounts, and now, I'm going to see those annoying waterfowl be vacated from the premises!" waving a doughnut in support, the other officers looked at each in mutual comprehension; their boss was a maniac.  
  
Over on the opposite end of the ruckus stood two stationary figures. One was the mawkish middle-aged businessman, Mr. Collier, the manager of a local Century 21, the one entrusted with bringing this news to light. Standing next to him was every insipid man's dream, the shapely figure that could only be Ms. Desiree Studmuffin. Obviously, this was no ordinary woman, because under the warm, beige skin and the slight aroma of perfume laid a twisted being underneath, one absent of this farce's beauty. Chameleon was uncharacteristically quiet; keen enough to know that if he begun acting out, other people may discomfit the ruse and force his untimely return to the dull environment the Raptor provided. This whole experience had been entertaining and even though the ducks seem to pull through at every turn, the saurian wasn't ready to see it all come to a close quite yet. Alongside him, browbeaten by the intense strings of sunlight crackling through the morning cloud cover, was the amorphous head, Chameleon's partner in crime and an entity incapable of explanation. Only the saurian could see him, and even though others would deny its existence, the henchman knew and fully believed in this being. Besides, he supplied all the plot twists for the story.  
  
Observant ears soon turned, to the distant sound, aloof from the commotion at the front of the Pond. Chameleon had a hard time placing the source through the verdure wall blocking his vision, but his questions were answered when along the street rolled out the unmistakable form of the Migrator, slowing down as the riders noticed the crowd assembling at their front door.  
  
"Whoa, ducks, what's that?" Duke was the first to point out the ensemble, reporters' lights began flashing on the form of a stately man that was now at the front podium.  
  
"A conference...at the Pond?"  
  
"I think we better check this out."  
  
"Agreed." Wildwing slowly pulled in, its diesel engines roaring against the power of the microphones, commandeering the attention of the people. Stopping a hundred yards short of the crowd, the ducks and their manager began unbuckling their safety belts. As they all headed towards the side door, Wildwing spun around and held his hand up to Phil.  
  
"Hold on. You and Dive shouldn't be seen with us quite yet."  
  
"Well, let me tell you something, booby. Nobody, but NOBODY holds media conventions in front of my Pond without inviting Phil Palmfeather!"   
  
"Yikes!" Duke verbalized the ducks' silent response to Phil's aggressive stance. Wildwing soon lowered his arms in defeat, yet he still had authority over his brother.  
  
"Alright Phil. Dive, stay here."  
  
"Aw, come on!"  
  
"Until we get the matter cleared, you got to stay out of sight."  
  
"Dude, this bites!"  
  
"It's for your own good, Kid." Duke backed up their leader, the two mallards taking the front line. Phil and the females quickly dismounted, the human strutting authoritatively to the podium, where Mr. Collier had began speaking to the crowd. Small murmuring introduced Phil to the speaker, who abruptly stopped and approached the manager, trying to contrive a deceitful look of pleasure.  
  
"Mr. Palmfeather! Hello!"  
  
"Alright, booby, what's going on here?!" Phil jumped on stage, his slightly malignant tone amplifying in the microphone, causing the reporters to feverishly scrawl notes in their pads.  
  
"Ladies and Gentleman, Mr. Palmfeather!" Mr. Collier tried to evade the direct inquisition by a quick introduction.   
  
"Hello..." Phil turned curtly to the microphones and abashedly held his hands when a small round of applause broke out among the reporters. It only lasted a few seconds. "Now, you..."  
  
"I'm Mr. Collier."  
  
"Yeah, fine, boobula. Now what is this all about?"  
  
"It appears you are a little stressed, Mr. Palmfeather."  
  
"Let's cut to the chase. What are doing holding this media convention on my property?!"  
  
"Oh...that's where the issue lies..." Mr. Collier's sideways glance turned over to Ms. Studmuffin, the full bosom swaying with each elegant step. Taking to the stage, she gave a friendly wave and Phil's heart leaped up into his throat. He immediately fell off the attack and his mouth drooped at the sight of her lovely features.  
  
"I have that effect on people, tee hee!" the shapely woman spoke into the microphones, many of the male reporters simultaneously dropped their pads and standing in an awe of infatuation. Woman reporters looked at each other, visibly unimpressed with the display, but inwardly envious. The only ones not under the haze of stupefaction were the ducks over on the sidelines.  
  
"Something is clouding everyone's aura." Grin dryly commented.  
  
"I think it's her chest."  
  
"They're probably fake." Mallory's snide comment drew looks from the others. "What?!"  
  
"Do I detect a hint of jealously, sweetheart?"  
  
"Don't push me L'Orange, or I'll introduce you to my fist."  
  
"Alright guys, this isn't helping. Let me try." Wildwing headed up the ramp onto the stage, his burly size partially blocking out the view of Ms. Studmuffin, who automatically backed up under a qualm of discomfort. However, the leader failed to notice the woman's apprehension and peered out over the crowd, soon recovering from their spellbound captivation. Immediately, Wildwing met boos and snapping remarks from the males in the crowd. The leader never felt so unpopular, especially when Phil tried to shove him aside to catch another eyeful of the woman. He looked at the other ducks, the entire conference seemed curtailed for the time being.  
  
Ms. Studmuffin took another step back and almost squeaked when Wildwing affronted her, the avian form, hands on hips, towering above the slender beauty. The Chameleon could feel the leader's golden mask ripping away at the illusionary façade and gripping at the saurian underneath. However, even if he had insecurities over his impending exposure, Wildwing didn't seem to notice.  
  
"Excuse me, miss."  
  
"M-M-Ms. Studmuffin." The flirtatious voice of earlier had diminished to merely an infinitesimal whisper.  
  
"Ms. Studmuffin. What is this whole business about?" the innocent question soon melded into suspicion when the woman shrank and withdrew behind Mr. Collier. Without a second thought, the mask of Drake DuCaine flurried to life with its activation as it suddenly probed deeper into the woman. Sure enough, the eyes flared under the mask, removing the veil of deception and revealing the Chameleon.  
  
"Chameleon!" Wildwing took a brisk step open, a strong feathered palm grabbing the wiry arm of the woman and pulled her forward. However, instead of revealing himself to the mallard, the saurian continued to play the part.  
  
"He's hurting me!" Wildwing soon heard the ruckus of gasping reporters, Phil and Mr. Collier taking a mutual retreat. Klegghorn spit out his last piece of donut, hands quickly uncovering the gun tucked away in his trench coat, the other cops following suite. Soon, the white avian found himself the target of a dozen firearms, and the incredulous stares from the rest of the bystanders.  
  
"Let him go, duck!"  
  
"Cap, don't you realize...this is the Chameleon!"  
  
"I'm Ms. Studmuffin stupid! Help!"  
  
"I'm warning you!" Klegghorn barked, the steady finger enwrapping the trigger, the gun jutting out an extra inch to back up his threat.  
  
"Phil...back me up..." Wildwing whispered out of the side of his beak, the manager now encased in a nervous sweat, his hands twitching at the sight before him.  
"Now booby, d-don't do anything y-y-you might regret..."  
  
"Phil, what are you talking about? You know Chameleon, the shape shifter, right?"  
  
"3!"  
  
"Cap, listen to me!" Wildwing's head flurried around, the jeweled eyes of the mask staring down the human assembly.   
  
"2!"  
  
"Wing, drop her!" Duke yelled over, the other ducks frozen in helplessness.  
  
"1!"  
  
A brief moment later, Wildwing raised his hands, his palm relinquishing the Chameleon. Pretending to faint, Mr. Collier and Phil rushed to her side; Klegghorn approaching, his left hand now featuring a sparkling pair of cuffs. The other ducks were stupefied, watching their leader arrested in front of the media of Anaheim. Not only would this spell disaster on their public relations, but it would mean a frenzied exaggeration of the events would find themselves plastered all over the papers and newscasts nationwide.   
  
"I got to tell you...I'm really disappointed duck. I didn't think you had it in ya." Klegghorn stood in the myriad of flashing lights as he steered Wildwing through the crowd to the car.  
  
"I'm telling you Cap, that's the Chameleon. He's just posing as her."  
  
"Well, all I can see is a frightened woman and you becoming a jail bird. Ha, I made a funny!"  
  
The Mighty Ducks all watched on, eyeing the woman in the arms of Mr. Collier, and the form of their leader, hands crooked being his back, locked in place by steel bracelets. His eyes garnished a helpless glance to his team, who could only return it, equally saturnine. Anaheim's best soon resumed control of the situation, a small collection of police cars speeding away the detained Wildwing.   
  
"I must ask the rest of you to leave..." One of the remaining officers, a slinky young man, said with a bit of intimidated fear. Slowly, the Mighty Ducks and Phil began to edge back towards the Aerowing.  
  
"Wait." Mr. Collier's voice boomed over the microphones, halting the slow withdrawal. "I wanted to tell you that this poor victim, Ms. Desiree Studmuffin, is the new owner of the Arrowhead Pond. It is not your home anymore."  
  
Phil's rounded form turn around, eyes expressing infernal outrage. Before he could speak, the unraveling copy of the will bopped his nose softly, forcing his eyes to follow it downward to reveal the document in its entirety. The manager was aghast, unable to comprehend how this devious man and his voluptuous cohort could have detained a copy of the deed. It didn't seem to make sense to him until he pulled one last painful look to Ms. Studmuffin's eyes. Under the milky-brown pupils existed a distant remnant of something mismatched, a shimmer of jaded light coercively cloaked under infectious appeal. Suddenly, the remembrances all clasped together in his head; the dance competition last night, the Chameleon stretched out over his chair in defeat, and the harmonious clicking of guns before the droids introduced him to comforting dormancy.   
  
"You are the Chameleon...you stole the deed..." he growled low, his accusatory gaze sharply chiding the woman, who only smiled slyly.  
  
"Too bad you can't do anything about it..." soft cheery lips inched towards him, whispering the words, reducing them to muted breaths that shivered the small droplets of sweat on Phil's forehead.   
  
"We'll see about that..." Phil turned abruptly and left, fuming over the thievery by the saurian as he approached the sodden forms of the ducks.   
  
"I wouldn't be heading anywhere if I was you..." the silhouette of Phil swung around, turning back to the wicked grin of Ms. Studmuffin, the engrained pupils of her eyes shining in a sinister tone.  
  
"What?!" Duke suddenly materialized to the side of Phil, startling the man. "Where and hell do you get off stealing our home from right under us?!"  
  
"Well, this..." a silky line of fingers brandished the deed for a reminder. "...says I own the Pond and everything in it!"  
  
"You can't take our stuff! We made it!"   
  
"Hey, the deed says 'as is'. There's nothing I can do about it." A reprobated satire gleamed in the flashing of teeth in a pearly smile. Duke noticed Mallory mere inches away from the breaking point and decided to play the calm figure, for now.  
  
  
"Well, at least allow us an hour to evacuate what we need. You can have what's left." The duck glared over to the police officer, expecting his support for a fair idea.  
  
"No!"  
  
"Wait...they should be allowed an hour. That is only fair." The officer stepped forward, his hand outstretched to encourage silence. A few seconds of fervent whispering played out between the conniving pair before the woman finally crossed her arms in a defeated pout, before Mr. Collier gave a silent nod.   
  
"One hour...that's it, no more..." the officer turned to the ducks, Duke happily obliged and swung his pointing hand overhead to direct the team back to the Migrator. Phil lagged behind, his cutthroat glare dangerously lethal, but quickly was shuffled aboard by the scurrying ducks, who couldn't waste any time with vendettas.  
  
Surprisingly obedient, Nosedive remained the vehicle, his head sunk with his golden locks blocking off access to his worried glance. Immediately, Mallory took the wheel to swerve the Migrator back into their underground entrance. Duke approached a spot adjacent to Nosedive, wanting to consol him.  
  
"Kid, are you alright?"  
  
"Duke...what are we going to do about Wing? They're locking him up and that woman's got our home under wraps."  
  
"You heard the conversation?"  
  
"This things got sound amplifiers, you know."  
  
"Oh...yeah..." Duke gave a small smile at the teen's keenness, especially since the perplexing controls of the vehicle had no labels.   
  
Just then, the hissing breaks yanked the vehicle to a stop, Tanya and Grin inventorying the room aboard for necessities. Mallory gave a sharp grunt as she stood up, looking at Duke expectingly.  
  
"So Mr. Leader, what do you propose we do?"  
  
"Well, we got an hour...I suppose we pack."  
  
"Excuse me! That's it?! We got our leader in jail, some bitch about to take the Pond and all our possessions and all you can do is to tell us to pack."  
  
"Well...uh..." Nosedive silenced himself, stopped cold by the turning head of Mallory, already florid enough for a wisecrack. He retreated and joined the others to take inventory.  
  
"Sweetheart..."  
  
"Don't you sweetheart me, buster!" a sharp fingernail stuck the thief in the chest, producing a slight flinch.   
  
"Alright, Mallory! That's better?!"  
  
"Don't test me Duke...I'm not in a good mood."  
  
"I'm trying to say I do actually have a plan...and a pretty good one too..." the artificial eye turning in conclusion, both sets of eyes turning to Nosedive, who suddenly turned around under the haunting suspicion of being volunteered for something.   
  
"Uh...hi guys!" he peeped as the pair approached him, Duke turning to Mallory with a feathered hand clutched the shoulder of Nosedive, as if presenting him to the woman.  
  
"What we need is to conduct a little...subterfuge."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Nosedive...no one should know that we have you in custody...well, that is, if that police officer last night kept quiet.  
  
"Yeah, keep going..."  
  
"Nosedive!"  
  
"Sorry, Mal Mal." The teen made a zipping motion over his lips.  
  
"He can stay here while we leave...that is, if our little prankster feels up to the job."  
  
"You want me to terrorize her?"  
  
"It's not a she, boobie." Phil, taciturn since boarding the Migrator, suddenly rose from his seat, turning to the others. "That's the Chameleon. He stole the deed after last night's...events."  
  
"WHAT?! Chameleon stole the deed...PHIL!" Condemnation was legibly spelled on Mallory's snarling beak. The manager shrunk a little.  
  
"Wait, wouldn't Tanya have a copy on the Drake One?"  
  
"Afraid not, booby. That's an original, one-of-a-kind thing."  
  
"This is great!" Duke clamored up, his elation challenged by Mallory's livid mien. "If it's the Chameleon, all you have to do is make him turn back to normal form, show evidence to Klegghorn, and Wildwing will be freed and we get our home back. Everything will be fine again!"  
  
"Awesome! Fellow ducks...it's time I get...mischievous, mwa ha ha ha ha!" Dive's swaying form happily jogged out of the vehicle, past the bewildered Grin and Tanya, disappearing into the depths of their fortress.  
  
"You think he's going to pull this off Duke?" Mallory's doubtfulness slightly offset the resilient faith the older mallard had in their teenage comrade.  
  
"Hey...look on the bright side, Sweetheart. You won't be the victim tonight."  
  
"Will you guys...uh-uh, help or something!" Tanya's flustered form was just setting down a heavy piece of equipment, her jumpsuit already dotted with sweat.  
  
"We are, Tanya...we got it all figured out. We can keep everything here. Just lock out access to all the machines down here, turn on all the cameras, and patch them into the Migrator. I promise you a show good enough to charge admission!" Duke reclined arrogantly in one of the piloting chairs and set his feet up on a neighboring console. He looked out the windshield, at the barren concavity of their hanger, yet his mind was elsewhere. For once in a long while, he was actually anticipating crude and unadulterated fun, and of all things, at the expense of a guileless saurian.  
  
"Oh boy, tonight's gonna be great!"  
  
(Save your questions about some of the more colorful characters of the story and just lay back and wait. Will Chameleon be exposed to the authorities? Will the others join the "Free Wildwing" rally...well, ok, there isn't one, but it sounded good right? What will Dive do? Things get a little crude in the final chapter, "Is That a Banana or Are Your Briefs Happy to See Me?"!) 


	10. Is That a Banana or Are Your Briefs Happ...

(EDITOR: Last chapter, everyone...and it's the longest too. I'll type more at the end of this story, but I'll get right into it. Oh, and I warn you that this chapter does earn a PG rating. There are a couple subtle cases of toilet humor and sexual references. Some may even be hard to catch. There is nothing really crude in here, and I never go into detail on any of the PG material. I hope you enjoy this and please, give me a review when you're done!)  
  
Reality Bites  
  
Chapter 10: Is That a Banana or Are Your Briefs Happy to See Me?   
  
Chameleon didn't say anything directly to the ducks when he saw them evacuating the base. Even though they were given the grace period of a mere hour to compile all their belongings, the end result was equally as pungent. He had succeeded where the other saurians had failed, and the most surprising aspect of the whole scheme was that it was done in frivolous taste. Now, assuming the disguise of the charming Ms. Studmuffin and adopting the company of the lubricious Mr. Collier, he was inwardly cheering as the Migrator and Aerowing pulled out, rendezvousing in the vacant parking lot. Their temporarily appointed leader, Duke, soon approached the couple, eyeing Chameleon with a suspicious, yet anticipatory glance, as he solidified the deal by shaking hands with the manager. Soon, the Mighty Ducks of Anaheim were out of sight, their vehicles embellished in a melody of supportive car horns by the unnerved citizens. In the form of Ms. Studmuffin, Chameleon had already been the victim of many aside glares by the local denizens.  
  
"Well, let's head inside and I'll show you around..." Mr. Collier smiled, discreetly brushing his offering sleeve against a rounded hip has he raised it into view. Chameleon knew the lewd intentions of his newly acquired ally and even though severely discomforted with the thought of having him as company, accepted the invitation and headed inside the stadium. However, the saurian, frayed with the man's refusal to leave, decided to cause a little discomfort in his nerves. Upon reaching the lobby, the man had shyly seceded towards the lavatory after an intense, flirtatious brush with the woman's hips as Chameleon made his grand entrance. The saurian, relieved for a few moments of peace from the human, was soon in solitary company of his vibrant friend, oddly muted even in absence of intense light. The concern was momentarily disregarded.  
  
"You see that guy? So crude...yet so amusing!"  
  
"Watch it Greeny. I think he's expecting a little payback tonight!"  
  
"I'll give him a little payback alright..." an affirmative nod and pat rewarded the disclosed weapon hidden among the folds of his dress.   
  
"Well, don't you want to have a little fun with him? It's not everyday you can make a human squeal like a pig!"  
  
"Already messin' with him. He thinks he's getting his hands on me, there's a serious butt-kicking coming his way!" soon his deviousness was cut short by the sudden enervation of his friend's complexion. To accompany it, the head started to dissolve its smile and looked almost ill.  
  
"What's going on? Are you sick?"  
  
"No, it's worse..."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Greeny...I'm dying away."  
  
"NO!"  
  
"Yes, if you haven't noticed, I've been slowly fading away over the last day or so."  
  
"But why?!"  
  
"Remember that you drank the potion, right?"  
  
"Yeah...and?"  
  
"Well, once it courses through your body and you...well, you know, get rid of it, it sort of subtracts from my potency as well. By my calculations, next time you take a trip to the restroom, that'll be all for me."  
  
"That can't be! I haven't used the lavatory once this entire story!"  
  
"Well, it's not in writing, but its assumed by the readers that you have anyway...so, I must...(cough) say farewell soon!" Chameleon soon dropped to his knees, the slender form of his womanly ruse bending over and lamenting at the sight of the fallen friend with a sudden cry to the heavens in painfully sullen angst. Mr. Collier, just exiting the room with a relieved sigh and mindfully zipping up his pants, was baffled by the sudden outcry by the woman and went to consol her.  
  
"Hey, what's..."  
  
"AAAAH!" shrieking, Ms. Studmuffin quickly shuffled to her feet, a radiant smile falsely plastered on her outstretched mouth. "What are you doing here?!"  
  
"I heard you scream, baby. Tell me, what's bothering my little studmuffin?" Chameleon shivered and swallowed down the urges to knock the tawdry man flat on his chubby face.   
  
"Oh nothing...Mr. Collier..." a slight acidity in her tone failed to belay the man's wanton advances.   
  
"You want me to give you a massage?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Really? Why not?"   
  
"Uhhh...I have an allergic reaction?"  
  
"To massages?"  
  
"Yeah, why not?"  
  
"My poor lovemuffin...never to feel the fulfilling hands of another man..." Chameleon caught his fist just in time from colliding with Mr. Collier's face. Stuffing down his pride, the saurian started hissing low under the man's pitying words.  
  
"I'll give you a message..." the woman muttered venomously deep, unintentionally audible to the man.  
  
"Really?!"  
  
"Huh, what?" Eyebrows raised in alarm.   
  
"You said you'd give me a massage!"  
  
"No I didn't."  
  
"Yes you did!"  
  
"Ugh...tonight..." Chameleon wasn't thinking clearly but seeing the elated man overbearingly perky indicated that he just said something he'd regret later on. "Let's go see the living quarters..."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"For the ducks!"  
  
"They live here?" an impatient roll of the eyes were the only reply as the curved form of Ms. Studmuffin graciously swayed her hips, heading towards the nearest locker room to find the entrance she was seeking. Mr. Collier, dabbing a bit of drool out of his mouth with a tucked handkerchief, soon lolled behind, gazing desirably at the vixen.  
  
"I didn't know Chameleon was into men..." Nosedive chuckled as he followed the saurian's quest for an entrance. He watched and listened to the entire exchance through the security cameras and was curious to was Chameleon seemed to be talking at the floor a moment ago. Yet, the duck was forced to revive his attentiveness when he saw the dastardly woman barging in the ducks' locker room and eyeing it for some kind of door or concealed pathway. "I guess I should let them find the entrance."  
  
"How in the hell do we get down there?!" Ms. Studmuffin growled, her petite nose wrinkling with the scowl implanted on her delicate features. Mr. Collier, trying to quell the aggravation, began an exaggerated search around the room. Announcing every find from a cobweb (imagine Nosedive's surprise with a clean freak for a brother) to an open locker with a pair of hockey gloves, the man was only getting on the nerves of the disguised saurian.   
  
"You're not helping..."  
  
"Maybe there's a password we can say to activate the doors!" Mr. Collier leaped and bounded over to the woman's slumping side, and bellowed 'open sesame' to the giant Mighty Ducks logo painted on the wall. Like clockwork, it folded open with the sound of rotating gears. Ms. Studmuffin's eyes lit slightly, her disposition lifting with the revelation. Seeing the path downstairs was barely lit, the man shamelessly flaunted himself as a true gentleman and took the lead.  
  
"Ah...the gentleman...let's see how he likes this!" Nosedive chortled, his finger sliding along the grooves of a rounded button, and pushing it.  
  
"AAAH! HELP!" Mr. Collier sloppily crumbled to the floor and began cringing, commencing to brush his sleeves off savagely. Ms. Studmuffin raised an unimpressed eyebrow, her visage slowly raising to the sight of a small, rubber spider, dangling mockingly from the roof of the arched entrance.  
  
"Geez, this is some defense system the ducks here. It actually works on idiots..." the saurian thought to himself, slowly pacing around the thrashing human, grabbing the spider with an extenuating fist and dangling it over the male's head.  
  
"It's rubber." It took a few minutes to compute in Mr. Collier's mind that he had successfully humiliated himself. Leaping to his feet and pulling his composure together, he gave a belittled laugh.  
  
"I was joking, ha ha ha! Didn't you think my reaction was funny?"  
  
"Uh...let me think...NO! Let me take the lead..." Ms. Studmuffin extended a silky leg down the first stair, sauntering her way through the descending hallway.  
  
"It's not that easy, girly girl!" Another button was wily fondled with a teasing finger before activating the next trap.  
  
An audible click was heard to both beings in the hall, all of a sudden, their traction lost as they both slid down the incline, devoid of the stairs present a second ago. Screaming ensued, yet the uncouth man, descending more speedily, attempted to make another dashing rescue and adjusted himself to where he would catch Ms. Studmuffin at the bottom. The plan conducted itself flawlessly at first. Mr. Collier reached the bottom, cuffed against the wall brusquely as he reached out for Ms. Studmuffin, approaching hastily. However, his hopeful opportunity at a close, "accidental" embrace was defeated when an extended leg of the woman crunched itself sickeningly in between the man's legs, his face growing red with flushed pain. Reeling over, the woman brushed her attire off and watched Mr. Collier groaning as he writhed in pain along the floor, holding his crotch tightly. Chameleon had an inward smile and highly amused, decided to issue an impassive apology.  
  
"Oh, sorry about that. How does it feel?" Biting back laughter, the saurian could hardly constrain his delight.  
  
"Oooooowwwww..." in a soprano tone, the man gracelessly whimpered like a child.   
  
Nosedive shuddered at the impact, but a part of him sickeningly enjoyed itself as he witnessed the man endearing the pain. The teen leaned back with a valiant grin, already prepared for his next attack. This time turning a lever, he sat back as the reverberation of an unwinding door startled both cohorts. All of a sudden, the woman was assaulted by a precipitating bag of flour, a fugacious cloud resulting from the impact, the violent coughing of Ms. Studmuffin concealed in the fog. Mr. Collier garnished enough energy to get back to his feet and immediately limped towards the void to help his accomplice.  
  
"Ah, the gentleman going to help...well see about that..." Nosedive flicked enough dial nimbly and sat back as the sound of another sack of flour brought the man to his knees. For a couple of minutes, a white powder obstructed the teen's view, but upon clearing, he could see both made it to their feet, both vilifying the Mighty Ducks and their traps. Nosedive watched all with an amused smirk, and pushed another button in response, another chorus or screams ensuing when a third bag of flour plummeted, knocking both characters to the ground with pained moaning.  
  
"Alright, that's it!" Chameleon reached the bounds of his patience and out of character, sprung to life, a flashing hand through his raiment conceived a laser pistol. A couple of shots later, the front door's security panel was sundered and the door complied with the puissance and hissed open.   
  
"What was that?!"  
  
"What?!" Ms. Studmuffin's face was tainted with perniciousness, past the point of tolerance with the man at her feet.  
  
"You just blasted the door open like that! Where did you get that weapon?!"  
  
"It's for my protection..." with a huff, the woman authoritatively marched in the headquarters, immediately threatening the empty confines with the pistol, meticulously scanning for the source of her mortification. Unbeknownst to the woman, up in the plated roofs, tucked in between supporting trusses in the darkness, was the sly young mallard, slowly awaiting his time to strike. Right now, he'd let the two have their solitude, watching the cameras through his rewired com and laying dormant for the time being.  
  
"Ms. Studmuffin?" the once dejecting words of Mr. Collier were now restrained, held back in a respectful tone.  
  
"I think that's it as far as defenses..." the laser pistol was soon tucked away under the garment, earning a gratifying sigh from the man. He found the undisturbed furniture and the grand television set and immediately ramified from his company to seek refuge on the couch. Ms. Studmuffin brushed off the flour and sneezed violently as she stumbled back into a chair, investigating her soiled clothes.  
  
"Why don't you take a shower or something?" Mr. Collier replied sleepily. Apparently, he paid no heed to the fact he was encased with the white dust himself.  
  
"Yeah, sure...whatever..." Ms. Studmuffin slowly rose to her feet and suspiciously eyed her surroundings. Austere metal paneling consisted of the walls, all unified in a glum scene. Only the decorations of the ducks, now understandably rescinded, gave the hollowed rooms any sense of identity. However, even though the major areas of socialization were stripped, Ms. Studmuffin soon discovered that the bedrooms didn't seem to be tampered with. Walking in on the first door, a pillar of light illuminated the trashed room of Nosedive. The teenager groaned, wishing that it wasn't his bedroom that had to be right off the living room. What made it worse was that there was not yet a camera in the bedroom, so he had to slowly skitter down the lengths of the trusses, guided by the sound of shuffling possessions. Slightly setting a ceiling panel ajar in an unvarnished corner of the room, his shining pupils flashed actively with the impending need to defend his territory from the saurian. For now, not to ruin the plan, the avian stayed concealed, but emitted a slight gurgling when Ms. Studmuffin landed on the bed, lounging back and looking up at the ceiling with vacant eyes. To the duck's surprise, the saurian soon started to talk to himself again in the stygian dimness.  
  
"Well, I'm in, and believe me, it was hell to get in here!"  
  
"I watched it all Greeny...it was kind of funny from my standpoint..." the vortex of colors shone down on the bed, slightly mitigated from past encounters, but still vibrant enough to allow the saurian an unobstructed view of the room around him. Torpid eyes gazed about, quickly resuming his mutual gaze with his companion above on the ceiling, the harrowed face of the woman clearing a bit as the sagging eyelids lolled her into the precursors of slumber.  
  
"Wasn't it great when I nailed that guy right in the family jewels?!"  
  
"I call it poetic justice."  
  
"So much for thinking he'd get a piece of Ms. Desiree Studmuffin!"  
  
"Are you sure you're not overplaying the role a bit? Imagine how your saurian allies would think when they find out you've been pretending to be a woman...and enjoying it so much?"  
  
"Hey, I'm working my magic here! I'm not overplaying it at all. Not even the chief of police thought I wasn't really a human when they took the ducks' leader away! Now, the rest of the duckies are on the streets and I actually own the Pond!" An unnoticed feathered fist contracted in the darkness, but restrained itself.  
  
"So, what are you going to do with it?"  
  
"I dunno. Just imagine how many silver and gold stars Draguanus would give me on the chart at home if I managed to blow the place up!" (EDITOR: remember the episode "Puck Fiction")  
  
"Well, you'd be his favorite for sure."  
  
"He'd finally stop treating me like a loser and start giving Siege all the cleaning duties!"  
  
"Have you thought about telling them?"  
  
"Not yet. After all, Siege and Wraith would come in, ruin everything, and I'd get all the blame. Besides, the boss is still too deep in the dumps to really notice right now." An extended yawn soon escaped the woman's mouth, succeeded by an unladylike smacking of the lips.   
  
"Tired?"  
  
"A bit...I haven't slept since this whole plot started."  
  
"Yeah, take a break. You earned it."  
  
"Cool. I think I'll go to sleep now..." a loud yawn and a groggy shuffling of the limbs soon transformed into stentorian snoring, resonating from the restful form.  
  
The duck groaned at the turn of events, but he couldn't help wonder why Chameleon was talking to himself. He never detected the dazzling lights or any hint of presence by a second being until miraculously, the flour on the form of the woman seemed to divest itself. Soon, the sleeping human was flawlessly restored to an elegant trig, while spying eyes glimmered with fright, as if they had seen a ghost. Nosedive tried to rationalize, but since Chameleon referred to all his known accomplices in the third person, the teen duck knew that none of them likely had any part in this visual trick.  
  
"Did I just see what I think I saw? Oh man, Wildwing always warned me about those triple cheese and beef tacos..." shaking his head, Nosedive soon replaced the panel and headed back up into the dark enclosure, concealing himself deep within the darkness to polish up some scheming details...  
  
Ms. Studmuffin snapped wide awake, staring around at the unfamiliar surroundings and immediately leaping to attention, striking a karate pose to hopefully ward off any opposing perpetrators. However, once the remembrance of falling asleep in the Mighty Ducks headquarters finally vivified itself, the furtive saurian leaped back to the ground, squinting to harness any light of the minute quality available. The head was gone, and Chameleon had no idea where his friend had disappeared to. The thought dwindled against the sudden urge to use the lavatory. Prying eyes, resuming post in the corner, groaned when he followed his foe's dawdling, directly into his personal restroom. The door had shut in and soon Chameleon was in position to begin his business when his flashy companion materialized among the wall.   
  
"Hey, give me some privacy here! I'll be done in a minute!"  
  
"Sorry, Greeny, but I should at least say goodbye."  
  
"Now?!" Chameleon shifted his feet erratically, trying to withhold his impending need.  
  
"I won't stop you from going, and trust me, it'll be very uncomfortable if you do hold it, so I want to wish you well."  
  
"You know, this is making it really hard for me..." Chameleon grumbled, using every ounce of his will to staunch the flow. Never could he have expected that doing something so considerately quotidian would actually result in the loss of a now valued friend.  
  
"Isn't there a way to get you back?"  
  
"As far as I know, I'm one of a kind. It was nice while it lasted though."  
  
"You can't do this to me! We're a team!" Nosedive couldn't help snickering at that line, a golden strand of hair folded back to let an ear compress itself to the door to allow his listening. He was still unable to hear the amorphous head, so it sounded as if Chameleon was talking to himself...and his dross.   
  
"Don't worry about me Greeny. You'll carry though. Besides, you continued this plan free of my interference for quite a while now."  
  
"But you started it and you can't help me finish it?" On the opposite side of the room, Mr. Collier was hunched over, leaning against the other door to hear the abstruse, one-sided conversation. He continued to ponder how and when did Ms. Studmuffin ever adopt such garrulousness. That didn't mean it wasn't amusing however.  
  
"She may have quirks, but she is still one heck of a woman!" he whispered over his desiring breathes, hoping that she would soon aggress the lavatory and help to alleviate some of the tension, physical and otherwise, that he was currently feeling.   
  
Chameleon had rarely felt so encumbered. He wanted to keep his jocular ally around, but he knew that fighting Mother Nature would only induce further wrath and discomfort. He decided to bid a sad farewell before completing his business, a small caterwaul escaping when the last remnants of his friend died out, the colors fading into the metallic hues of the wall, painting the room in a gloomy haze of gelidness. Suddenly, the saurian felt the need to escape and quickly washing his hands and wiping away the mistiness niggling at the bottom of the guise's mascara-branded eyelids, the curvaceous woman emerged from the restroom to nearly fall face first over the hunched form of Mr. Callous, now shooting a shy, puckish glance. A dark, contemptuous look crossed the face of the woman, jittering fingers itched with his incompetence.   
  
"Sorry, I just wanted to see how you were doing?" almost questioning himself, Mr. Collier quickly jumped up, his hands together in a pleading look, almost as puerile as his established infatuation.  
  
"Go...away..."  
  
"Well, I'd like to, and believe me I would, but I think it wouldn't be very gentleman-like to leave you in this desolate place all by yourself. After all, who knows what other traps could place you in danger, my little creampuff."   
  
"Aren't you married or something?" Ms. Studmuffin, in a state of deep vexation, crossed her arms and asked interrogatively.   
  
"Oh...yeah, ha ha ha! But the old battle-axe knows that I'm always trying to consider what's best for my fellow employees." Mr. Collier placed his clammy hands on Ms. Studmuffin's milky back and gently escorted her to the kitchen table. Nosedive, watching from out of view, was alarmed to see how reckless Mr. Collier had been with his home. He seemed to have full run of the television and not only had he managed to trash the living room, but he made the premature assumption that he could freely snatch any of the remaining foodstuffs that he wanted. A true loafer at heart.  
  
"No wonder Chameleon doesn't see anything in him..."  
  
In the kitchen, Ms. Studmuffin relinquished control over her stature, but still complied with the man's wishes and took a seat, even if the company wasn't desirable. He seemed to have been toiling with the appliances and the aroma of something surprisingly mouthwatering had perked up the woman's petite nose. Within a few seconds, a timer, placed at the forefront of the counter rang intently as the man soon turned from another piece of his surprise and contrived a smile to Ms. Studmuffin.  
  
"I made us dinner!" he winked, soon resuming work on the food before him. After a few more assorted sounds of various smashing fists and other utensils being clanked around, he approached the stove. Nosedive grinned, now back at the security consol, monitoring the scene.  
  
"Maybe someone should tell him the stove handle gets a bit hot..."  
  
"AAAAAAH! IT BURNS!"  
  
"Or maybe not." Fiddling with a small, handheld consol in his plumed hand, he started recalling the instructions Tanya gave him and decided to give it a test run.  
  
"Let's see what happens when technology goes bad!"   
  
Mr. Collier held his hand, furrowed with red marks from the burn. He waved it around painfully when he was soon besieged from above by an opening cabinet, spilling pots and pans over him. Ms. Studmuffin merely hoisted an eyebrow in interest. The man soon escaped the mess, and approached the sink to cool his injury, but to his dismay, the faucet wouldn't turn on. Instead, the sprayer attachment went off, blasting him in the chest with frigid water, painful screeching emitted in reply. Soon, to complement his harrowing, the refrigerator doors miraculously swung open, smacking the man in the back of the cranium and the spine, sending him reeling forward as another cabinet door opened in tune to backhand the man's rotund cheeks, rippling in reply as he collapsed to the ground, cowering at the malicious appliances surrounding him. Suddenly, the kitchen didn't seem very inviting anymore. Yet, all the woman could do was laugh, her silky complexion challenged with tears as she howled at the unfolding pandemonium. Even though the impeccable sequence of attacks was very suspicious, it was lost in her overshadowing mirth.   
  
"Oh, that was great! I never seen anything so funny in my life!" Ms. Studmuffin was on the verge of tears, each sensuous laugh cutting deeper into the man's dwindling pride. Yet, her apparent immunity to the misfortune was cut short when the chair suddenly slid back, sending the woman into the floor.   
  
Nosedive sat back, struggling to suppress all his enjoyment, an episodic array of snorting giggles escaping as he watched the pair recover through his moistening eyes. He never knew the hilarious advantages that an automated kitchen imposed and now, getting the opportunity to test it out first hand, the results couldn't have been better.  
  
"I should market this and sell it to people as a home defense system!" Nosedive quipped as another button was pressed, yet another rubber spider bounding from the kitchen ceiling, landing squarely of Mr. Collier's nose and requesting all his attention. He whimpered, bellowed, and screamed tightly as Ms. Studmuffin briskly nicked it off with the sharp edge of one of her high heels.   
  
"So much for dinner, huh?"  
  
"How about take out?"  
  
A few minutes later, after ordering for Chinese food, a bored woman and her managed boss sat at the table. In just a few short hours, the boss had become little more than a subservient pet, feed into by his perpetuating wanton wishes. He figured that from what he wouldn't get from his marriage, he could certainly retrieve from a lustrous affair on the side. The only real defeating point was that the woman had so far refuted every advance and now seemed increasingly distant. For someone so youthful and flirtatious, the woman had currently appeared to be someone completely different. Now, where a perfectly sculpted face once sat, one riddled with stress and somnolence acted as a replacement. Her fingers was now tortuous, her groomed hair was now abound in loose strands and even the jewelry seemed to have lost its luster. She seemed to have misplaced much of her infectious appeal in just a day's time. Here, stuck in the confines of the ducks' kitchen, waiting on food, was a moocher of a employer, amid the dulled and daunted complexion of his fantasy, was still dreaming delusions of grandeur in his fictitious relationship built on savage, compulsive needs. Yet, when visions cleared and assumed reality, it was only them and a fruit basket, Ms. Studmuffin absent-mindedly poking a banana among the assorted items. Mr. Collier took a hold of it, sliding his chair a little closer and decided to move in for another pass.  
  
"You know, bananas are really good for you..."  
  
"Uh-huh...whatever..."  
  
"No, really. Not only do they have potassium, but they are known for their abilities to influence performance..."  
  
"I haven't heard anything about that."  
  
"Well, it seems to be working on me..."  
  
At first, the spectating mallard or the disguised saurian didn't comprehend the subtle meaning of the man's message, but soon Chameleon caught sight of something alarmingly unsettling. Something was protruding from the folds of the man's pants, even visible enough to be caught on camera. Nosedive's stooping beak only partially conveyed the disgust on both parts, not yet legibly visible on Ms. Studmuffin's face. Mr. Collier leaned in, chillingly close.  
  
"Why don't you give me a kiss?" he whispered hoarsely into the rounded ear. Chameleon flinched in distaste, every nerve of his body ready to attack the man and rip him to shreds for his disrespect. Yet, the saurian's seething silence only encouraged a continuation of the man's inane attempt at romance.  
  
"What's the matter? Are you intimidated by my...animal magnetism?"  
  
"No, it'd be the breath..." Nosedive muttered, zooming in to witness Ms. Studmuffin's face contort with revolt.  
  
"I got one word for you mister..."  
  
"What's that, my little lovey-dovey?"  
  
"YUCK!" brandishing her tongue and scurrying away from him, she made a retching noise over from the wall. Mr. Collier, growing surprisingly furious with the dejection, closed in on the woman, hovering over her, his florid eyes trying to induce fear into the tiny form below his bullish shoulders. However, Ms. Studmuffin didn't seem impressed in the slightest.  
  
"How dare you..."  
  
"No...how dare you! That was rude to stick a banana in your pants like that!" Nosedive slapped his forehead with the rancid naivety of the saurian. Mr. Collier practically collapsed at the comment.  
  
"That wasn't a banana!" The proverbial lightbulb in Chameleon's head finally lit up in realization.  
  
"WHAT THE HELL!?" Ms. Studmuffin's eyebrows grooved intensely upward as the mouth swung open, her features locked in momentary stupefaction. "That's so gross! What a pig!"  
  
"That's it..." Mr. Collier decided to be the savage beast and grabbing an arm brusquely, he dragged her towards the nearest place to make out...that is, until something cold and steel-like lightly tapped his shoulder. He turned around to see the barrel of the laser pistol, staring him deep in the eyes.  
  
"Get your slimy hand off me right now, creep!"   
  
"Damn, I forgot about that..." Mr. Collier obeyed, raising his hands in defeat. Soon, the woman's appeal began to fade away, a jade glow encasing the human. When the light subsided, what remained sent the man to the floor in a heap. The ruse was now gone; only the crinkled form of the Chameleon remained. "Now, what were you saying about animal magnetism?"  
  
"Please...let me go! I'm sorry! Please!" Mr. Collier arched his head downward, to try kissing the feet of his captor, but the limb quickly surmounted itself out of reach on top of the man's head, exuding downward to shove the hapless man's face to the ground.  
  
"It's not that simple, human. You're just a crude, fat pig. I'm going to enjoy torturing you..."  
  
"Drop it, sleazeball!" Chameleon dropped the pistol in reply, clanking against the floor nosily. Slow eyes peeked behind tremulously to spot Nosedive with a banana pointed right at him, a huge smile invading his beak. It took the saurian a moment too late to comprehend that it was a joke. The mallard had successfully apprehended him and the pistol was briskly kicked out of reach.   
  
"How'd you get in here! I should have you arrested for breaking and entering!"  
  
"Oh, and like you did in Phil's apart, you braindead booger!"  
  
"Hey, you can't prove to anybody that it was me, you blonde bimbo!"  
  
"Two words, you misshapen mishap. STAYIN' ALIVE!"  
  
"AAAAH! Don't say that, EVER again, you winged woodpecker!"  
  
"That's duck, you spotted simpleton."  
  
"Big-mouthed bird..."  
  
"Crack-headed clown..." Mr Collier laid against the floor, one rankled eye snuck a peak at the argument ensuing above his head. He billowed a low groan deep in his gut, drawing a resounding "shut up!" from the saurian, kicking him in the side for retaliation.   
"Now that ain't nice, you big-eyed buffoon!"  
  
"Well, let me do something else that ain't nice, you dorky duckie!" and with a flick of the wrist, surpassing Nosedive's haste to snatch it, the saurian was able to escape, fading away to leave the duck to clean up the mess.  
  
After another hour, after Mr. Collier was forced to clean up his mess and extradite the deed back to Nosedive, they emerged from the Pond, the man immediately snatched up by the Anaheim police, lead astray to a police car to be frisked. The rest of the Mighty Ducks team (sans Wildwing), Phil and Klegghorn were standing in a small assembly, waiting his news. Nosedive held up the deed to his teammates, a pat on the back from Duke congratulated him as Tanya fingered the document. Holding up a small videotape, he slid it into Klegghorn's hand, the grooved face of the aged officer striking a stern, inquisitive glance.  
  
"Cap, you better hold onto your socks when you watch this. Wing was right...Ms. Studmuffin was the Chameleon..." his head bid attention to the rambling Mr. Collier, cadging the officers to protect him from the "freckled green monster".  
  
"Nosedive, you won't believe what we found." Tanya approached first, holding up a slightly soiled, but intact suitcase, his undisturbed contract still inside.  
"Awesome! My contract!"  
  
"Yeah, apparently it was left here in the parking lot and found by one of the officers."  
  
"I just love it when everything comes together!"  
  
"How did it go kid?" Duke took his turn to speak to the teenager.  
  
"Let's say one thing...it went quite a bit different than I would have expected it."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, there's were no big battles, or anything very exciting like I would have wanted. Yet, after today, I'll never think of Chameleon or middle-aged, human males the same way again."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Sorry Cap. Present company excluded!" Nosedive gave a sheepish grin to dissuade the captain's slight scowl.  
  
"I thought you were considered a senior citizen...you're over 55 right?" Duke asked innocently, but it awoke a fervor in the police chief. His eyes had a sapphire blaze, the look terrifying.  
  
"Come on Duke...let's go free Wildwing before you are arrested for harassment..." Nosedive shoved the thief away, the other ducks following behind, each holding in their amusement until they were a safe distance away. Tearful eyes, coupled with hysterical laughter played out afterwards while the chief took out his rage on the empty boxes from Krispy Kreme in his car.  
  
In a cell, deep in the urban pandemonium of Anaheim, sat a depressed Wildwing. He had been wrongfully detained, forced to hand down the reigns of leadership, entrusting in his comrades to bring swift jubilation and set him free. Klegghorn gave him a harmonica for a joke, but the duck couldn't ascertain how to play it. For now, his eyes searched aimlessly for something to catch his attention, anything to keep his attention piqued before he feel headlong into numbing boredom. Suddenly, a bit of light shimmered along the polished floor, a particular silhouette approaching in its intrinsic gait. Slowly, hopeful pupils levitated its visage upward to take in the sight of a smiling, fledgling mallard, his sandy tendrils of hair uplifting the spirits of the prisoner.  
  
"Do you need a hug bro?" chuckling lightly, the joking form of Nosedive was quickly enwrapped in an embrace by his older brother.   
  
"How are you doing, baby bro?"  
  
"Oh great Wing! I kicked the Chameleon out of our home, cleared things up at the social security offices to get you pardoned, and happened to stroll down here to tell you that you're free. Oh..." Nosedive held up a piece of paper. "You can call this an early birthday gift, I guess. Phil wasn't happy about the loss of a tax break, but we know you'd like it." Wildwing quickly scanned over the print in the fleeting dimness, and developed a smile after finished.  
  
"Finally got that changed, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, you're my guardian now. You know, I was getting real used to having Phil as my dad. He can dance better than you too!"  
  
"I'll have to see about that sometime; I've been known to have some moves myself. Seriously though, thanks Dive."  
  
"Yeah, I know. I'm the best!" His bravado and puffed ego was placed in check by the clearing of a throat in the hall. Mallory peered in, her warning glance, though softer then before, was still enough to stifle Nosedive's facetiousness.  
  
"Come on, Dive. Let's go home..." Wildwing slung an arm around Nosedive and the two brothers emerged into a bright hallway, where the rest of the team and Phil were assembled.   
  
"Thanks Phil."  
  
"Well, booby, even though I'm really going to miss the tax break, I'm more than ready to give him up!"  
  
"WHAT!?" Nosedive shouted out in surprise.  
  
"One night with you and those saurians come over and trash my apartment. I should get hazard pay to take care of you!" the other ducks laughed while Nosedive pretended to pout.  
  
"Well, anyway, I think this calls for celebration!" Duke clamored up, the teen's face lighting up along with the rest of the group.  
  
"Right on!"  
  
"Definitely!"  
  
"Wait!" Wildwing held his hands up to quell the noise. "We got practice!"  
"Bro, get back in your cell."  
  
"Just kidding Dive. Let's go!" the group started straddling down the hallway, towards the door out of the prison ward.  
  
"It's so nice to have everything...well, you know, back to normal and everything!" Tanya inserted into the joyous conversation, prompting one member of the team to stop in their tracks.  
  
"Ahem!" All the ducks stopped to turn around where Mallory gave a reminding stare.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Did anyone forget my audit? That's still not cleared up!"  
  
"Oh...ha ha ha, tough luck, girly girl!" Nosedive's hand quickly staunched the flow of words from his beak when he saw the female avian's vexation augmented. "Sorry..."  
  
"Don't worry about it, my friend. Soon, your aura will be uplifted and your mind will be unburdened."  
  
"Yeah yeah...let's go." Futile to continue, especially against Grin's remedial advice, Mallory proceeded following the group, grumbling something about the IRS as the team continued to plan out their sudden party.  
  
"CHAMELEON!" An enervated saurian timidly skittered into the cold lights of the throne room, the scrutinizing gaze of his nefarious master flinted in the darkness that shrouded his seat. The saurian was paralyzed with the fear that the others knew of his misadventure and he was about to face the condemnation of the group, especially after shying away from the repairs on the Raptor.   
  
"Yes boss?" a tiny squeak escaped his lips, his master leaning forward, stepping down from the throne, the fiery light above seemed to lick its wicked flames around Draguanus's attire, slowly waxing in his face as it unexpectedly demonstrated a pleased glance.  
  
"Good job."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I have to admit it. You can't do much right, but you did manage to cheer me up."  
  
"Uhhh...really?" Chameleon didn't want to question his superior, but he was curious for elaboration. His questions were answered with the robed saurian, Wraith, soon materialized from the dark, his elongated hands encasing a hauntingly familiar vial, vacant of contents, yet surfeited with explanation.  
  
"You drank this didn't you?"  
  
"Well...yeah. I'm sorry, really!"  
  
"Oh, don't worry, Chameleon. It was all part of the plan."  
  
"Plan?"  
  
"The plan to cheer me up!" Impatience was etching its way into the dragon's benevolence, so Chameleon immediately silenced himself. Wraith stepped forward to further elucidate.   
  
"When you drank this, you start experiencing illusions while it is coursing through your system. Soon, it manifests into a form that while vividly colorful, is still recognizable in some way."  
  
"It looked like the boss."   
  
"That's one possibility."  
  
"But, it did stuff...I mean, I saw the ducks, this...'thing' was able to make things happen."   
  
"Actually, that was the saurian magic, supplied by myself. Your mind created the illusion and the dialogue for it...well except for the part about you being the only one able to see it."  
  
"You mean to tell me you and the boss put me through this without telling me?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Well, how did you know I'd end up drinking that potion?"  
  
"Because even though you're a peon, your curious nature is something that is easily tractable." Draguanus assumed his seat, still ambivalent in tone, but a recessive slyness had now wormed its way in. "There is one minor complication though..."  
  
"What?"  
  
Then it happened. Out of the darkness, a massive orange palm tightly held the desecrated remains of Calvin Klein briefs and an icily fatal glance was outlined in the beam of light. Chameleon gulped and backed up slowly, grimacing when Siege took an extended step into the full spotlight, looking prepared to extirpate something.  
  
"You are one dead little lizard..."  
  
"Eep. Uh, hi Siege...may, what nice briefs you have! Bye!" Chameleon quickly took off, running at full speed, screeching down the hall as the heavy footsteps of the orange saurian took off after him, promising death.  
  
"Things are truly back to normal Wraith."  
  
"It appears so, Lord Draguanus. Have you created another plan to destroy the ducks?"  
  
"I may have something up my sleeve."  
  
"Something big and mechanical, I suppose..." Wraith sunk a bit as asking, already prepped with the line about a "dismal outcome".  
  
"No. Something simple...and magical."  
  
"Hmmm, is that so?" rigid eyes sparked with interest at the thought of the dragon finally considering magic to fulfill his needs.  
  
"We'll see what happens. For now, I think I'm going to watch Siege try to kill Chameleon though..." turning on the security systems and reveling in the destruction, Draguanus felt tinges of satisfaction. Even though he had yet to succeed in discomfiting the ducks, there was still more plots to be played and the continued abuse of his simplistic cohorts.  
  
A few weeks later, the IRS building was abuzz. Nothing was more of a surprise to local citizens than seeing their heroic waterfowl all assembled in a row of chairs, waiting for their fellow teammate to finish her audit. Wildwing was whispering with Nosedive, trying to admonish him about being nicer to Mallory, especially when he wanted to "cheer her up" with a morning prank of green eggs and chilled coffee. Meanwhile, Duke was reading a magazine, Tanya was eyeballing a computer and wondering how she could improve its performance, while Grin remained in a trance, meditating on the endless quest to be further in touch with his spirit. After the hushed argument of the siblings died down and the people started to successfully suppress their compulsive staring, Mallory walked on out, an uplifted beak with an unreadable, neutral expression.  
  
"How'd it go Mallory?" Wildwing asked, a small packet of sheets landing in his lap. Looking down at the results, the audit showed that she was absolutely flawless in her records, not even a single cent off.  
  
"Whoa! Way to go, girly girl!" Nosedive yelled out excitedly, but was quickly shushed by the others. After all, it was an IRS lobby.  
  
"Yikes..." Duke added in, albeit hushed.  
  
"The chances of the government finding a report absolutely perfect is extremely meager. That's definitely an accomplishment."  
  
"I sense your deep satisfaction, as well as our own."  
  
"That's what the government gets for thinking they can pull one on Mallory McMallard! Let's go out...my treat."  
  
"We got practice, remember?" Nosedive smacked his forehead, a small contingency of groans backed him up. "What? Guys, we have to keep our edge."  
  
"Man, has everything ever been more back to normal?!" they headed back towards the Pond, Mallory in silent elation while the rest were caught up in devising hockey strategies. Little did they see that down the street, at a lone bus stop, past the assembly of cops at Dunkin Donuts discussing the crazy tape that Klegghorn had watched, stood a lonely man. Mr. Collier not only lost the one woman he desired more than anything, but he got faced with divorce papers soon after. Even Century 21 wasn't interested in keeping him on the workforce after such shoddy behavior. Just he was sulking in the morose depths of pity, a car with the pizza boy (chapter 3) whizzed by, dousing his coat with a fresh spray of water from the puddles at his feet.  
  
"Reality bites."  
  
THE END  
  
(EDITOR: That's it for the story. Just a few unimportant things, in case you still feel like reading stuff.  
  
1. This story was an experiment, not in humor as much as it was in writing style and the use of vocabulary. I was trying to conjure some words I haven't used for a while and I've also been making use of words that I've been learned over the course of the summer (writing really does convince you to expand your learning). In future stories, I think I want to keep it a little more simplistic though, since I personally like writing that way.  
  
2. College starts in 2 weeks, and I will most assuredly be busy with classes to have much time to dedicate to writing. It was a summer hobby and one I don't care to give up completely, but anything I do in terms of fan fiction will be severely limited. However, I'll continue to visit and review new stories on the site. I've been really enjoying them, particularly the recent ones by Raphael, Dolphy, and Silver Elf Child. Great job everyone!  
  
3. I have been planning another story to write in the future sometime. It will be a bit different from past stories. It will definitely earn a PG-13 or R rating and would be very dark overall. I hope this idea for the story has never been done before. Though, don't hold your breath and expect to see it anytime soon. Like I said, college is starting, and I want to write the entire story done first. I like to have my stories complete before I post them...unlike this one.  
  
4. Just a reminder. I do have an AOL IM screen name for this site. My screen name is "Justsomeone12", so if you'd ever like to chat about MD or whatnot, give me a buzz!  
  
5. Thanks to everyone who leaves reviews and reads my stories!   
  
That's it! Good luck for those back in school/college!) 


End file.
